3.Z//0  5. 

^ 

PRINCETON,  N.  J.                          ^ 

Presented    bT^ro-^  •  LJOr\r\  X^^S  \J  \J  \-VV 
BX    9225    .H788   M5    1883 

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Memorial   sketch 

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Zephaniah    Moore    Humphrey. 


Memorial  Sketch 


// 

y'.-' 
ZEPHANIAH    MOORE   HUMPHREY 

AND 

FIVE   SELECTED   SERMONS. 


rt)(3^Vic]         \o\  tf.-  y 


PHILADELPHIA: 

J.    B.    LIPPINCOTT    &    CO. 

1883. 


Lippincott's  Press,   Philadelphia. 


PREFATORY    NOTE. 


''  I  ^HE  Rev.  Dr.  Humphrey,  who  is  the  subject 
^  of  the  following  Memorial  Sketch,  was  pastor, 
honored  and  loved,  in  four  different  cities  succes- 
sively, and  Professor  of  Church  History  in  still  an- 
other; three  of  the  five  being  among  the  chief  cities 
of  the  land. 

A  great  number  of  his  parishioners  and  other 
friends  have  known  him  only,  or  mainly,  during  one 
or  another  of  these  periods  of  his  life ;  and  now 
that  he  is  gone  from  them  all,  they  will  welcome 
some  connected  account  of  him,  which  will  not  only 
match  itself  to  their  clearest  and  fondest  memories, 
but  will  inform  them  also  concerning  those  periods 
of  his  life  during  which  they  were  separated  from 
him,  including  that  of  his  childhood  and  youth,  by 
the  formative  influences  of  which  all  his  subsequent 
history  was  shaped. 

Others  have  been  related  to  him  bv  ties  which 
local  changes  have  not  disturbed.  These  are  the 
members   of    his    own    household  and    his    kindred, 

5 


6  Prefatory  Note. 

nearer  or  more  remote  of  nearly  his  own  age,  and 
the  children  and  grandchildren  of  his  brothers  and 
sisters,  som.e  of  whom  are  so  young  that  they  have 
barely  caught  the  sound  of  his  honored  name  and 
the  fragrance  of  his  sweet  reputation,  and  will  yearn 
as  they  grow  older  to  know  more  of  him. 

For  all  these  classes  of  persons,  and  any  besides 
who  would  fain  get  fresh  courage  and  strength  from 
reading  the  simple  story  of  a  noble  and  beautiful 
and  almost  faultless  life,  this  brief  history,  at  the  re- 
quest of  Dr.  Humphrey's  family  friends,  has  been 
lovingly  prepared  by  one  who  knew  him  intimately 
and  with  ever-increasing  affection  from  the  time  of 
his  entering  college  until  he  finished  his  course  on 
earth  and  entered  into  rest. 

The  five  sermons  which  are  printed  in  the  latter 
part  of  this  volume  were  selected  with  difficulty, 
simply  because  there  were  so  many  others  that 
seemed  to  plead  for  publication.  These,  however, 
are  fairly  representative  sermons,  and  constitute  a  fit 
culmination  of  this  brief  biography. 

D.  T. 

Cazenovia,  May,   1883. 


MEMORIAL   SKETCH 


OF 


ZEPHANIAH  MOORE  HUMPHREY. 


I. 

PERHAPS  the  time  has  arrived  when  those  who 
were  most  closely  related  to  Rev.  Dr.  Z.  M. 
Humphrey  can  read,  with  feelings  more  tranquil  and 
through  tears  less  blinding  than  at  an  earlier  date,  some 
connected  biography  of  the  dear  man  who  was  snatched 
so  quickly  from  us  a  little  more  than  a  year  ago,  and 
in  whose  sudden  departure  we  have  only  been  able  to 
acquiesce  as  we  have  heard  the  voice  of  his  Lord  and 
ours  saying,  "  I  will  have  him  to  be  with  me  where  I 
am,  that  he  may  behold  my  glory." 

Excellent  and  appropriate  tributes  to  his  character 
and  memory  have  already  been  published.  The  lov- 
ing and  appreciative  addresses  given  at  Cincinnati  and 
Chicago,  before  the  grave  received  the  treasure  of  his 
dust;    the  affectionate  and    discriminating  memorial 

7 


8  ZcplianialL  Moore  Hionplirey. 

discourses  by  the  pastors  of  the  churches  of  which, 
successively,  he  had  himself  been  pastor  ;  the  carefullx'- 
prepared  and  comprehensive  memorial  discourse  de- 
livered at  Lane  Seminary,  in  accordance  with  the 
appointment  of  the  board  of  trustees,  by  Dr.  R.  W. 
Patterson,  so  long  his  co-presbyter  and  ecclesiastical 
associate,  and  a  very  large  number  of  editorial  articles 
in  both  religious  and  secular  papers  filled  with  his 
praise  and  warm  with  an  affectionate  admiration  of 
him, — all  these  have  been  published  and  have  been 
gratefully  welcomed  by  his  friends. 

Indeed,  the  beautiful  similitude  employed  by  Dr. 
Dickey,  who  is  Dr.  Humphrey's  immediate  successor 
as  pastor  of  Calvary  Church  in  Philadelphia,  was  as 
truthful  as  it  was  rhetorically  fine,  in  which  he  rep- 
resented that,  as  the  greatness  of  a  falling  tree  is 
betokened  by  the  multitude  of  the  echoes  that  rever- 
berate through  the  forest  in  connection  with  its  fall, 
so  the  high  estimation  in  which  Dr.  Humphrey  was 
held,  and  the  eminent  importance  attached  to  his  life 
and  work,  have  been  abundantly  attested  by  the  almost 
numberless  expressions  of  sorrow  and  of  affectionate 
admiration  that  have  echoed  through  the  land  in  con- 
nection with  his  death. 

But  as  these  echoes  are  dying  away  into  silence, 
there  is  a  want  felt  that  the  sweet  strains  of  them  be 
reproduced  and  combined  with  other  and  harmonious 


Mr.  Humphrey  s  BirtJi.  9 

strains  into  a  symphony,  which  may  sound  with  a 
more  connected  and  comprehensive  completeness  the 
rhythm  and  melody  of  his  life,  and  take  its  humble 
place  in  the  great  anthem  by  which  God  is  being  con- 
tinuously praised  in  the  lives  and  characters  of  them 
that  are  his. 

For  the  writer  of  this  to  attempt  the  composing 
of  such  a  symphony  would  be  quite  presumptuous, 
except  that  the  melody  is  in  the  material  furnished 
to  his  hands,  which  exists  in  harmonious  proportions, 
and  readily  sets  itself  to  music.  His  work  will  be 
lovingly  to  transcribe  the  rhythmic  cadences  of  a  life 
in  which  mortal  ears  could  discern  no  discords,  and 
to  put  them  in  their  proper  place  and  order. 

II. 

ZEPHANIAH  MOORE  HUMPHREY  was  born 
at  Amherst,  Massachusetts,  on  the  30th  day  of 
August,  1824.  His  father  was  at  the  time  president 
of  Amherst  College,  and  the  infant  son  was  named  in 
honor  of  Dr.  Zephaniah  Moore,  the  previous  and 
only  preceding  president  of  the  college. 

It  will  be  noticed,  therefore,  that  Zephaniah's  birth 
occurred  just  at  the  time  when  a  new  era,  not  only  for 
our  own  country,  but  for  the  whole  civilized  world, 
was  marshalling  its  forces  and  bringing  them  to  bear 


10  Zephaiiiah  Moore  HmnpJirey. 

upon  the  formation  of  individual  character,  and  thus 
upon  the  social  progress  of  the  race.  It  was  the 
modern  era  of  great  inventions,  and  of  the  rapid 
spread  and  popular  utilization  of  scientific  knowl- 
edge. 

Within  a  year  after  Mr.  Humphrey's  birth  the  will 
of  the  Earl  of  Bridgewater  was  executed,  bequeath- 
ing eight  thousand  pounds  sterling  to  be  paid  to  the 
author  of  the  best  treatise  "On  the  Power,  Wisdom, 
and  Goodness  of  God  in  Creation,"  resulting  in  the 
famous  and  fruitful  "  Bridgewater  Treatises." 

It  was  also  during  the  year  after  Mr.  Humphrey's 
birth  that  the  Erie  Canal  was  completed,  connecting 
the  Great  Lakes  of  the  West  with  the  Hudson  River, 
and  thus  with  the  ocean,  and  only  six  years  earlier  the 
first  steam  vessel,  the  "Savannah,"  had  crossed  the 
Atlantic  from  New  York  to  Liverpool  and  St.  Peters- 
burg, and  returned  safely,  though  it  was  several  years 
later  when  the  first  regular  trips  began  to  be  made  by 
the  "  Sirius"  and  "  Great  Western." 

Seven  years  after  his  birth  Morse's  electric  tele- 
graph was  invented,  and  patented  a  few  years  later. 

Still  earlier  than  this,  when  Mr.  Humphrey  was  only 
five  years  old,  Joseph  Smithson,  an  English  lover  of 
knowledge  and  of  mankind,  bequeathed  a  hundred 
thousand  pounds  sterling  "  to  the  United  States  of 
America,  to  be  devoted  to  the  increase  of  knowledge 


The  Spirit  of  the  Times.  1 1 

among  men,"  resulting  in  the  "  Smithsonian  Institute" 
at  Washington. 

About  this  time,  and  onward  from  it,  there  was  a 
vast  increase  of  periodical  hterature  in  England, 
France,  Germany,  and  America.  All  these  things, 
and  others  of  kindred  nature  and  influence,  were  in- 
struments of  great  social  changes,  inaugurating  the 
new  era  above  spoken  of,  the  beginning  of  which  was 
so  nearly  contemporaneous  with  that  of  the  life  we 
are  to  study  and  trace. 

It  will  be  interesting  to  notice,  as  we  proceed,  how 
the  spirit  of  the  new  age  influenced  and  modified  the 
life  of  Mr.  Humphrey,  how  unlike  it  made  him  in 
his  manner  and  methods  to  his  own  father,  to  whom 
he  was  so  like  in  all  the  fundamental  principles  of  his 
character,  and  in  all  the  general  aims  and  purposes  of 
his  life. 

For  the  strongest  and  most  independent  of  men  do 
not  escape  the  moulding  and  controlling  influence  of 
the  vital  forces  of  their  own  period.  Both  consciously 
and  unconsciously  they  are  affected  by  them.  Mr. 
Humphrey  himself  has  very  finely  set  forth  the  nature 
of  this  influence. 

In  an  article  on  Albert  Barnes,  in  the  Presbyterian 
Reviezv  of  July,  1871,  he  wrote  as  follows:  "One  of 
the  most  powerful  of  the  mysterious  forces  by  which 
human  acts  are  controlled  is  scarcely  thought  of  by 


12  Zeplianiah  Moore  HumpJircy. 

the  majority  of  men.  It  is  so  subtile  that  we  can 
hardly  define  it.  For  want  of  a  better  term  thinkers 
have  styled  it  ilic  spirit  of  the  times.  It  is  a  reigning 
power  so  pervasive  that  none  can  escape  it,  so  strong 
that  resistance  to  it  is  seldom  successful,  yet  it  defies 
analysis.  It  is  distinct  from  the  power  of  an  individual 
earthly  will.  If  a  man  of  decided  character  influences 
us,  we  refer  our  movements  to  him  as  we  refer  effects 
to  causes.  But  the  spirit  of  the  times  a.fifects  us  when 
we  are  addressed  by  no  personal  appeal.  .  .  .  Great 
bodies  of  men  are  often  found  to  agree  in  opinions  at 
which  they  have  arrived  by  no  logical  process." 

Not  far  from  the  same  time  he  wrote  of  his  own 
father  as  follows:  "The  life  of  Heman  Humphrey 
may  be  considered  as  a  representative  life.  It  covered 
a  period  of  transition.  It  began  when  society  in  New 
England  bore  the  type  of  Puritan  culture.  It  ended 
when  that  type  had  almost  disappeared  in  the  Amer- 
ican culture  of  to-day." 

Putting  these  two  things  together,  we  are  prepared 
to  say  that  the  life  of  the  son,  Zephaniah,  was  also  a 
representative  life,  and  in  accord  with  the  spirit  of  Jiis 
times.  But  they  were  vastly  different  "  times"  from 
the  other,  and  they  demanded  and  produced  a  vastly 
different  man,  in  respect  to  the  methods  and  instru- 
mentalities by  which  he  acted  upon  his  generation 
and  wrought  out  the  work  of  his  life. 


Father  and  Son.  13 

During  those  wonderful  years  following  Zepha- 
niah's  birth,  say  from  1824  to  1840,  those  years  of 
great  inventions,  quickly  succeeding  one  another, 
and  of  the  rapid  popularizing  of  scientific  and  general 
knowledge,  the  sturdy  father,  made  of  Puritan  metal, 
and  formed  in  Puritan  mould,  was  piloting  Amherst 
College  "  out  of  a  crooked  harbor  into  an  open  sea," 
while  the  scholarly  and  no  less  sturdy  son  was  storing 
his  mind  with  the  knowledge  which  he  made  so  effec- 
tive in  days  when  science  and  inventions  had  advanced 
from  being  little  more  than  matters  of  accomplishment 
and  interest  to  being  the  mighty  practical  powers  of 
these  times,  when  our  best  scientists  have  devoted 
themselves  to  the  ingenious  application  of  general 
laws  to  particular  uses  for  the  world's  comfort. 

If  the  sire  was  bugle  and  battle-axe  4o  his  genera- 
tion, it  may  be  said  of  the  son  that  to  his  generation 

"  His  steps  were  like  rain 
To  the  summer-vexed  farmer." 

As  we  review  his  life,  we  shall  see  that  every  ac- 
quirement he  made  not  only  helped  to  round  his  own 
character,  but  gave  another  point  of  contact  and  sym- 
pathy with  those  about  him,  adding  a  new  wire  along 
which  ran  "  the  electric  fire  of  thought  and  feeling," 
exciting  in  others  the  desire  to  know  more  of  the 
man  and  his  master. 


14  Zcplianiali  Moore  HitDipJirey. 

Dr.  Phillips  Brooks  says,  "A  man  who  lives  like 
an  inspiration  for  honesty  and  purity  and  charity  in  a 
community  may  be  only  the  candle  in  whose  obedi- 
ent life  burns  still  the  fire  of  another  stronsf,  true  man 
who  was  his  father,  and  who  passed  out  of  men's 
sight  a  score  of  years  ago.  Men  call  the  father  dead, 
but  he  is  no  more  dead  than  the  torch  has  gone  out 
which  lighted  the  beacon  that  is  blazing  on  the 
hill." 

How  many  lives  are  candles,  lighted  by  the  fires  of 
both  sire  and  son,  is  known  only  to  Him  who  "  light- 
eth  every  man  that  cometh  into  the  world." 

HI. 

MR.  EMERSON,  in  speaking  of  the  influences 
that  early  contributed  to  give  shape  to  his 
own  life  and  character,  says  that  "a  person  cannot 
get  away  from  his  ancestors."  This  is  true  in  so  far 
as  it  means  that  a  person  cannot  avoid  feeling  the 
influence  of  hereditary  tendencies ;  but  that  those 
tendencies  can  be  yielded  to  on  the  one  hand,  or  re- 
sisted on  the  other,  is  quite  obvious. 

Such  a  man  as  Aaron  Burr,  for  example,  was  abun- 
dantly successful  in  getting  away  from  his  ancestors. 

Inheritance  of  good  character  is  not  a  mere  physi- 
cal and  matter  of  course  process.     It  implies  the  vol- 


Hereditary  Tendency. —  Tlic  Hinnphrcy  Line.       15 

untary  and  virtuous  personal  appropriation  by  the 
heir  of  the  spirit  and  principles  of  those  from 
whom  he  inherits.  And  it  must  always  be  to  a  per- 
son's credit  and  praise  if,  in  the  freedom  of  his  vol- 
untary and  chosen  career,  he  does  not  get  away  from 
that  which  was  good  in  his  progenitors,  but  repro- 
duces and  magnifies  and  perfects  it  in  his  own  char- 
acter and  attainments. 

Perhaps  it  will  plainly  appear  that  it  was  so  with 
him  of  whom  we  are  to  speak. 

On  his  father's  side,  Dr.  Humphrey  was  descended 
from  two  excellent  New  England  families, — the  Hum- 
phreys and  the  Browns. 

The  Humphrey  line  is  traced  directly  from  Michael 
Humphrey,  who  came  from  England  to  this  country 
some  time  previous  to  1643,  and  among  whose  de- 
scendants were  one  Governor  of  the  Colony  of  Mas- 
sachusetts, and  one  Governor  of  the  New  Haven 
Colony,  and  it  is  said  that  "piety  and  integrity  were 
general  characteristics  of  those  in  this  line  of  descent 
whose  names  never  became  famous." 

Zephaniah's  grandmother  Humphrey  was  Hannah 
Brown,  a  direct  descendant  of  Peter  Brown,  whose 
name  is  in  the  list  of  passengers  of  the  "  Mayflower," 
which  landed  at  Plymouth  in  1620. 

She  was  sister  of  Captain  John  Brown,  of  West 
Simsbury,  Connecticut,  and  he  was  father  of  John 


1 6  Zeplianiali  Moore  HunipJircy. 

Brown  of  Ossawatamie,  so  that  Zephaniah's  father 
was  own  cousin  to  John  Brown  of  Ossawatamie. 

While  the  latter  was  in  the  Virginia  prison,  under 
sentence  of  death  and  awaiting  his  execution,  Presi- 
dent Humphrey  wrote  him  a  letter  of  fraternal  counsel 
and  kindly  compassion.  He  addressed  him  as  his 
cousin,  and  received  a  frank  and  affectionate  reply, 
which  contained  a  calm  argument  in  defence  of  his 
conduct,  and  an  expression  of  peaceful  acquiescence 
in  its  results,  with  no  bitterness  toward  anybody,  and 
revealing  such  a  spirit  of  mingled  sweetness  and  firm- 
ness as  must  convince  any  reader  that  the  soul  of  the 
man  (which  is  "marching  on")  was  a  soul  of  love, — 
love  to  God,  love  of  righteousness,  love  of  humanity, 
with  malice  toward  none,  and  hatred  only  of  what  he 
regarded  as  injustice  and  wrong. 

Indeed,  the  Virginians  who  were  brought  most 
closely  into  contact  with  him,  officially  or  otherwise, 
at  the  time  of  his  trial  and  execution,  were  constrained 
to  recognize  the  noble  unselfishness  and  purity  of  his 
character,  and  to  admire  the  wonderful  gentleness  and 
benevolence  of  spirit  which  blended  with  the  obsti- 
nate confidence  and  invincible  courage  of  his  convic- 
tions. 

This  peculiar  combination  of  unlike  qualities  has 
always  been  one  of  the  fruits  of  a  type  of  theology 
which   utterly  humbles  and  subdues  self  and  exalts 


TJic  Broivn  Fatnily.  17 

God,  as  at  once  a  God  of  justice  and  of  grace.  It 
led  St.  Paul  to  say,  "  When  I  am  weak  then  am  I 
strong."  It  led  to  the  strange  fact  that  the  gentle  and 
loving  disciple  John  was  one  of  the  two  disciples  of 
Jesus  who  by  their  Divine  Master  were  surnamed 
"  Boanerges,  which  is  Sons  of  Thunder"  (Mark  iii.  17). 
The  lion  was  lying  down  with  the  lamb,  and  a  little 
child  was  leading  them.  It  made  a  person  all  tender- 
ness on  the  side  of  the  sensibilities  and  affections,  but 
all  strength  on  the  side  of  the  conscience  and  the  con- 
victions, and  when  there  was  conflict  between  the  con- 
science and  the  sensibilities,  the  triumph  of  the  latter 
was  instant  and  supreme. 

This  characteristic  was  illustrated  in  the  case  of 
another  John  Brown,*  of  Scotland,  the  father  of  John 
Brown  of  Edinburgh,  author  of  "  Rab  and  His 
Friends,"  who,  in  his  incomparable  memoir  of  that 
same  father,  relates  that  when  he  was  a  boy,  he  and  his 

*Of  course  nothing  is  claimed  from  the  coincidence  of  names  here, 
but  much  from  the  prevalence  of  certain  characteristics  in  certain  fam- 
ilies who  happen,  in  this  case,  to  be  largely  made  up  of  John  Browns. 
Indeed,  what  is  said  by  Thomas  Hughes,  in  the  introductory  chapter 
of  "  Tom  Brown  at  Rugby,"  concerning  the  "  Brown  family"  in  Eng- 
land, in  which  case,  probably,  the  name  is  entirely  assumed,  there  being 
no  such  family  of  that  name,  yet  much  that  he  says  about  the  fine 
and  sturdy  characteristics  of  the  nominal  Brown  family  in  England 
might  be  truly  said  about  the  real  Brown  families  in  Scotland  and 
America. 

2 


1 8  ZephaniaJi  Moore  HiunpJtrcy. 

little  brother,  in  their  bed  one  night,  were  startled  by 
a  sharp  cry  of  pain  from  their  father  in  another  room. 
They  were  at  the  same  instant  summoned  to  that 
room  by  a  servant,  and  found  that  their  mother,  who 
had  long  been  feeble,  had  suddenly  ceased  to  breathe, 
and  was  lying  dead  on  a  sofa.  Their  father,  after  the 
one  sharp  cry,  was  standing  in  silent  agony,  grasping 
his  head  between  his  hands,  and  pale  as  the  dead. 
But  as  soon  as  they  entered  the  room  he  withdrew  his 
hands  from  his  head,  instantly  controlling  his  emotions, 
and  said,  slowly  and  gently,  "  Let  us  give  thanks,"  and 
turned  with  them  toward  the  sofa, — "  his  supreme 
will,"  says  the  filial  biographer,  "  his  supreme  will 
making  himself  and  his  household  give  thanks  in 
the  midst  of  such  a  desolation — and  for  it." 

A  very  similar  thing  occurred  in  the  life  of  Presi- 
dent Humphrey.  In  July,  1840,  while  he  was  president 
of  the  college  at  Amherst,  his  son  Henry  (next  older 
than  Zephaniah),  then  a  member  of  the  sophomore 
class,  a  young  man  of  fascinating  beauty  and  brilliant 
promise,  was  seized  suddenly,  in  the  midst  of  robust 
healthfulness,  with  an  acute  inflammatory  disease,  and 
died  in  a  few  hours. 

The  next  morning  we  were  all  surprised  to  see  the 
president  in  his  accustomed  place  at  morning  prayers 
in  the  college  chapel.  His  face  was  pale,  and  he  had  a 
worn  and  exhausted  appearance.     But  he  arose  as  the 


Mastery  of  Faith  over  Feeling.  19 

college  bell  ceased  its  ringing,  and  calmly,  sweetly 
read,  not  any  wail  of  lamentation  and  anguish  from 
Jeremiah  or  elsewhere,  but  the  cheering  words  of  the 
103d  Psalm  :  "  Bless  the  Lord,  O  my  soul,  and  all  that 
is  ivithin  me,  bless  His  holy  name''  and  so  on  to  the 
impressive  words,  "  He  hath  not  dealt  with  us  after  our 
sins,  nor  rewarded  us  according  to  our  iniquities,''  etc., 
closing  with  the  words,  "  Praise  ye  the  Lord."  Then 
he  offered  such  a  prayer  as  would  be  likely  to  follow 
such  a  Scripture,  read  under  such  circumstances, — a 
prayer  that  was  full  of  tenderness,  but  triumphantly 
trustful,  instead  of  being  sorrowful.  Of  course  there 
was  nothing  of  stoicism  or  assumed  want  of  emotion 
in  the  service,  but  there  was  a  quiet  mastery  of  faith 
over  feeling  by  a  strength  that  was  borrowed  from 
the  Unseen  and  Eternal. 

These  incidents  present  one  aspect  of  that  many- 
sided  trait  of  character  which  comes  from  a  combina- 
tion of  deep  and  tender  sensibilities  with  a  supreme 
and  controlling  devotion  to  the  principles  of  truth 
and  righteousness.  The  combination  develops  a 
very  comprehensive  character,  and  then  inspires  the 
whole  of  it,  showing  itself  in  all  sweetest  and  gentlest, 
and  also  in  all  boldest  and  most  heroic  deeds.  It  un- 
derlies and  helps  to  explain  the  divine  promise  that 
"the  meek  shall  inherit  the  earth,"  which  implies  that 
meekness  is  not  weakness,  but  it  is  humility  and  gen- 


20  Zephaniah  Moore  Humphrey. 

tleness  combined  with,  wedded  to,  the  unconquerable 
strength  of  truth  and  goodness. 

It  seems  manifest,  therefore,  that  some  augmenta- 
tion of  this  element  of  character  came  into  the 
Humphrey  family  through  Zephaniah's  grandmother, 
whose  maiden  name  was  Brown.  It  gave  additional 
fire  and  energy  to  natures  that  had  already  a  large 
provision  of  substantial  excellence  and  strength. 

It  revealed  itself  in  her  distinguished  son.  President 
Humphrey,  by  many  utterances  that  were  like  trum- 
pet-blasts, and  deeds  that  were  like  pitched  battles  at 
various  critical  periods  of  his  own  career  and  of  the 
country's  history,  of  which  suitable  mention  is  made 
in  a  brief  biography  of  him  published  soon  after  his 
death. 

It  revealed  itself  in  her  grandson,  Zephaniah,  the 
subject  of  these  memoirs,  not  only,  as  we  shall  see,  in 
certain  characteristics  of  his  ordinary  life,  but  especi- 
ally at  certain  extraordinary  and  critical  emergencies, 
when  it  was  made  to  appear  that  he  possessed  a  mar- 
vellous reserve  of  physical  strength  and  courage, 
which  might  have  qualified  him  to  be  the  inspirer  of 
an  army,  or  the  successful  leader  of  a  forlorn  hope  at 
the  crisis  of  a  battle. 

Dr.  Patterson,  in  his  memorial  discourse,  just  hints 
at  this  characteristic  when  he  says  that  "  Dr.  Hum- 
phrey's physical  courage  was  in  some   emergencies 


Struggle  ivith  a  Burglar.  21 

displayed  by  a  measure  of  daring  that  amazed  his 
friends."  One  of  these  emergencies  may  be  spoken 
of  here  so  fully  that  none  of  them  will  need  to  be  re- 
ferred to  again. 

In  the  midst  of  one  of  the  nights  of  his  residence 
at  Chicago,  Dr.  Humphrey  was  awakened  by  his  wife 
from  a  sound  sleep  to  find  a  burglar  creeping  about 
the  room.  He  sprang  from  his  bed  and  grappled  with 
the  man  in  the  darkness,  and  held  him  by  so  firm  a 
grasp  that  he  could  not  release  himself 

Meanwhile  Mrs.  Humphrey  had  started  a  light  in 
the  room,  and  became  an  eye-witness  to  the  scene. 
The  burglar  had  drawn  a  knife,  and  was  saying  that 
all  he  wanted  now  was  to  get  away,  that  he  did  not 
wish  to  injure  Mr.  Humphrey,  if  he  were  allowed  to 
escape,  but  he  would  not  be  captured. 

Still  Mr.  Humphrey  clung  to  him  ;  together  they 
struggled,  the  burglar  backing  toward  the  hall  and 
stairway.  When  this  was  reached,  by  a  sudden  wrench 
the  thief  liberated  himself  from  Mr.  Humphrey's  grasp 
and  ran,  followed  by  Mr.  Humphrey  ;  but  when  he  was 
half-way  down  the  stairs  the  burglar  turned  and  struck 
Mr.  Humphrey  with  his  knife,  saying,  with  an  oath, 
"  I  will  not  be  followed."  Pausing  long  enough  to 
see  that  the  blood  which  had  started  from  elbow  to 
wrist  was  from  a  very  slight  wound,  Mr.  Humphrey 
again  pursued  the  thief,  but  could  not  catch  him,  as  he 


22  Zcplianiah  Moore  HiimpJircy. 

quickly  escaped  through  a  basement  window  which, 
at  the  time  of  his  stealthy  entrance,  he  had  left  open 
for  that  purpose. 

Here  was  the  man  of  peace,  the  quiet,  delicate, 
sedentary,  fine-fibred  gentleman,  not  only  exhibiting 
a  marvellous  degree  of  muscular  strength,  but  a  meas- 
ure and  quality  of  cool  self-possession  and  deliberate 
and  sustained  purpose  and  energy  of  courage  which 
must  have  been  rooted  in  the  deepest  and  strongest 
elements  of  his  nature.  Something  of  the  sturdy 
John  Brown  blood  was  flowing  in  those  veins. 

This  was  only  a  marked  exhibition  of  a  quality  of 
character  which  often  revealed  itself  in  Mr.  Hum- 
phrey amid  the  ordinary  events  and  achievements  of 
his  life.  It  seems  apparent,  therefore,  that  there  be- 
longed to  the  child  Zephaniah,  from  his  parental  pre- 
decessors, the  possibility  and  something  of  the  pro- 
mise of  a  natural  gentleness  and  affectionateness  of 
spirit  and  disposition,  combined  with  such  resoluteness 
of  conscience  and  courage  of  conviction  and  energy 
of  will  as  might,  if  not  fully  balanced,  manifest  them- 
selves in  the  excesses  of  obstinacy  and  fanaticism. 

But  they  were  fully  balanced.  The  Humphrey 
character  was  thoroughly  regulated  by  a  dominating 
good  judgment.  Zephaniah's  father  was  a  wise  man. 
He  had  much  of  the  fire  and  force  of  which  we  have 
been  speaking.     Dr.  R.  D.  Hitchcock,  of  Union  Theo- 


Wisdom  Combined  with  Energy.  2  3 

logical  Seminary,  who  was  for  six  years  student  and 
tutor  at  Amherst  during  Dr.  Humphrey's  presidency, 
says  of  him  that  "  he  was  a  man  of  great  natural 
eloquence."  And  great  eloquence  implies  several 
energetic  and  forcible  qualities  of  character. 

Professor  Tyler,  in  his  "  History  of  Amherst  Col- 
lege," gives  the  following  comprehensive  list  of  Pres- 
ident Humphrey's  characteristics  as  a  man  and  an 
orator:  "Strong  common  sense,  practical  wisdom, 
sharp,  clear  Saxon  style,  vigor  of  thought,  fervor  of 
passion  and  boldness,  coupled  sometimes  with  mar- 
vellous felicity  of  expression,  and  a  healthy,  hearty, 
robust  tone  of  body  and  spirit." 

The  stirring  influence  of  President  Humphrey's 
energy  and  power  was  felt  throughout  New  England 
and  beyond.  But  he  was  as  well  and  widely  known 
to  be  a  judicious  and  trusted  counsellor,  and  as  fa- 
mous for  his  discreetness  and  wisdom  as  for  his  valor 
and  energy. 

But  let  us  look  for  a  few  moments  at  the  other  line 
of  Zephaniah's  descent. 

On  his  mother's  side  he  was  equally  happy  in  his 
ancestral  antecedents.  His  mother's  maiden  name 
was  Sophia  Porter.  Her  father,  Noah  Porter,  of 
Farmington,  Connecticut,  belonged  to  an  excellent 
family  there,  which  had  already  had  its  abode  in  the 
Farmington  Valley,  generation  after  generation,  for 


24  Zcphaniah  Moore  HumpJirey. 

more  than  one  hundred  and  thirty  years  at  the  time 
Sophia  was  born  in  1785. 

Sophia  had  three  brothers.  The  oldest  was  Rob- 
ert, who  was  missionary  preacher  and  teacher  in 
Central  New  York  as  early  as  1801,  when  Central 
New  York  was  mostly  a  wilderness,  before  there  was 
any  Utica  or  Syracuse.  He  was  associated  there  with 
the  heroic  and  consecrated  KIRKLAND,  who  had 
been  missionary  among  the  Oneida  Indians,  and  he 
(Robert)  was  principal  of  the  Oneida  Academy  at 
Clinton,  out  of  which  Hamilton  College  grew. 

The  second  brother  was  Edward,  who  was  preacher 
and  teacher  in  Connecticut,  and  from  whom  Dr.  Ed- 
ward Humphrey,  of  Louisville,  Zephaniah's  oldest 
brother,  derived  his  name.  And  the  third  brother 
was  No.'\H,  who  was  pastor  at  Farmington,  his  native 
town,  honored  and  influential,  from  the  time  of  his 
ordination,  for  more  than  sixty  years. 

Of  the  children  of  this  latter,  his  son  Noah  is  a 
distinguished  metaphysician,  and  for  some  years  now 
president  of  Yale  College,  while  his  daughter,  Sarah 
Porter,  proprietor  and  principal  of  the  Farmington 
School  for  young  ladies,  has  been  recognized  for 
more  than  thirty  years  by  many  of  the  most  fastidious 
and  discriminating  parents  in  the  land  as  quite  unsur- 
passed in  those  qualities  of  mental  and  moral  and  re- 
ligious and  social  and  literary  and  esthetic   culture. 


Tlic  Porter  Line  of  Descent.  25 

under  the  influence  of  which  they  have  desired  their 
daughters  to  be  placed. 

These  simple  statements  of  fact  indicate  quite 
clearly  the  general  character  of  the  influences  that 
flowed  into  President  Humphrey's  family  from  the 
Porter  side. 

The /;rm^  character  of  those  influences,  or  of  their 
aggregate  and  combined  import,  is  quite  indescrib- 
able. 

In  Zephaniah's  mother  and  her  immediate  kindred, 
such  as  have  been  mentioned,  there  was  grafted  into, 
and  interwoven  with,  a  solid  substratum  of  piety  and 
integrity  and  vigorous  mental  capacity  and  physical 
soundness  and  eminent  good  sense,  a  breadth  and 
fineness  of  general  and  particular  culture,  the  fruit  of 
which  is  a  certain  completeness  and  choiceness  of 
character  which  cannot  be  represented  by  pencil  of 
artist  or  pen  of  analyst,  but  is  best  understood 
through  the  general  terms  just  now  employed.  What 
we  most  esteem  and  admire  in  such  characters  is  a 
certain  comprehension  and  .symmetrical  excellence, 
which  helps  us  to  apprehend  what  our  humanity  was 
designed  to  be  and  is  destined  to  become. 

If  there  can  be  any  doubt  about  appropriating  to 
Zephaniah,  beforehand,  this  heritage  of  hereditary 
characteristics  or  tendencies,  that  doubt  will  be  re- 
moved by  noticing  that  these  very  qualities  have  been 


26  Zcplianiali  Hloorc  Hnuiplircy. 

manifested,  in  their  combination  and  in  marked  de- 
gree, by  all  his  brothers  and  sisters. 

It  is  so  well  and  widely  known  that  it  barely  needs 
to  be  stated  here  that  the  oldest  brother,  Dr.  Edward 
P.  Humphrey,  of  Louisville,  still  "bringing  forth  fruit 
in  his  old  age,"  has  been  for  forty  years  one  of  the 
strong  leaders  of  that  great  national  Presbyterian 
Church  in  which  only  very  strong  men  can  be  leaders  ; 
that  amid  the  severe  conflicts  of  doctrine  and  church 
polity  he  has  been  one  of  the  foremost  of  those 
whose  "  necks  have  been  clothed  with  thunder,"  and 
yet  from  first  to  last  showing  himself  to  be  one  of  the 
mildest,  gentlest,  tenderest  of  men,  so  that  when  at 
great  meetings  there  has  been  need  of  setting  forth 
the  melting  and  winning  aspects  of  gospel  truth,  and 
showing  that  "  the  Lord  is  very  pitiful  and  of  tender 
mercy,"  few  men  would  be  sooner  selected  than  he 
to  do  it. 

But,  not  to  speak  of  this  only  surviving  brother, 
nor  of  the  only  surviving  sister,  Sarah,  the  youngest 
of  the  family,  not  to  speak  of  these  because  they  are 
surviving,  let  it  be  said,  almost  in  a  word,  that  the 
four  who  lived  to  mature  life,  and  yet  departed  all 
too  early,  as  it  seems  to  us,  to  that  world  where 
strength  and  goodness  are  perfectly  one,  and  where 
the  most  exalted  powers  are  but  the  energies  of 
love,  these  four, — James,  who  was  a  lawyer  in  Brook- 


The  Brotlicrs  and  Sisters.  27 

lyn,  and  felt  to  be  a  man  of  power  there,  at  one  time 
elected  to  Congress  by  the  spontaneous  votes  of  the 
best  elements  of  the  city,  and  yet  recognized  always 
as  the  very  embodiment  of  kindness  and  benevolence, 
and  as  approaching  nearer  than  almost  any  other  man 
to  the  ideal  of  a  cultured  and  complete  Christian  gen- 
tleman ;  John,  the  pastor  at  Binghamton,  the  stalwart 
as  well  as  elegant  preacher,  grappling  fearlessly  with 
the  living  issues  of  the  time,  and  yet  familiarly  desig- 
nated far  and  wide  as  "  The  Beloved  Disciple,"  on 
account  of  his  likeness  to  St.  John,  and  beloved  by 
his  people  then  and  yet  almost  to  idolatry ;  and  Lucy, 
the  pastor's  wife  at  Lenox  and  Detroit,  securing  the 
admiration  of  the  most  discriminating  and  distin- 
guished persons  by  the  singular  comprehension  in 
her  of  wisdom  and  strength  with  supreme  gentleness 
and  an  almost  timid  modesty ;  and  Mary,  the  pastor's 
wife  at  Delhi  and  Ithaca  and  Ann  Arbor,  the  black- 
eyed  and  brilliant  Mary,  who  was  so  sprightly  and 
yet  so  serious,  so  capable  and  yet  so  self-distrustful, 
so  energetic  and  yet  so  mild,  that  one  of  her  hus- 
band's parishioners  at  Ithaca  used  to  say  that  "  her 
life  was  a  constant  speech  of  power  and  goodness  in 
the  parish."  Each  and  all  these  possessed  an  almost 
ideal  sweetness  and  delicacy  and  grace  and  charm- 
ing loveliness,  and  so  combined  these  with  strength 
and  energy  and  resoluteness,  that"  they  are  conspicu- 


28  Zeplianiah  Moore  Humplircy. 

ously  remembered  as  persons  of  exceptionally  beau- 
tiful and  varied  excellences  of  character  in  the  com- 
munities from  which  they  were  snatched  away  a  score 
of  years  ago, — persons  whom  to  see  was  to  admire, 
and  whom  to  know,  for  a  few  hours  even,  was  to  re- 
member forever.  And  we  are  the  more  willing  to 
say  and  print  these  words  because,  if  they  should 
come  to  the  eyes  of  all  who  would  heartily  indorse 
them,  they  would  bring  a  sweet  pleasure  to  thou- 
sands of  persons,  who  would  testify  that  these  words 
are  but  feeble  praise  of  those  strong  and  radiant 
souls. 

And  now,  if  any  apology  is  needed  for  saying 
so  much  concerning  hereditary  characteristics,  the 
apology  will  be  found  in  the  fact  that  they  furnish  a 
key  by  which  to  interpret  the  life  into  which  they 
enter. 

While  the  actual  life,  by  regressive  inference,  re- 
veals the  primitive  traits  of  character,  these  in  turn, 
by  predictive  suggestion,  assist  the  clearer  compre- 
hension of  the  spirit  and  meaning  of  the  actual  life. 
We  shall  then  more  easily  understand  the  full  signifi- 
cance of  a  person's  words  and  deeds  when  we  have  a 
previous  acquaintance  with  the  elemental  tendencies 
and  formative  influences  of  his  character,  for  then  we 
read  the  record  of  personal  endeavor  and  achieve- 
ments in  the  light  of  the  principles  from  which  they 


Tlie  Fruit  Knoivn  by  the   Tree.  29 

sprang.  We  know  the  quality  of  the  fruit  more 
quickly  and  confidently  when  we  know  the  quality 
of  the  scions  which  were  grafted  upon  the  root  of  the 
tree  on  which  it  grew. 

And  in  this  particular  case  of  Dr.  Humphrey  there 
will  be  need  of  these  predictive  suggestions,  lest  it 
should  seem  that  too  much  is  claimed  for  him  in 
some  things  that  will  be  stated  in  these  pages  con- 
cerning him.  But  the  validity  of  the  claims,  together 
with  the  true  significance  of  the  statements,  will  be 
manifest  in  the  light  of  the  fact  that  these  hereditary 
tendencies  and  influences  of  which  we  have  been 
speaking  were  among  the  chosen  factors  and  constit- 
uent elements  of  his  life  and  character. 

For,  marked  as  are  the  hereditary  qualities  that  were 
bequeathed  to  Dr.  Humphrey,  we  are  not  to  conceive 
of  his  character  as  made  up  of  them.  They  became 
his,  but  they  did  not  constitute  him.  He  was  himself 
the  separate  personality  by  whom  these  tendencies 
were  voluntarily  appropriated  and  these  influences  ac- 
cepted and  nourished.  His  character  was,  as  we  shall 
see,  unique  and  individual.  But  we  shall  most  justly 
comprehend  that  character  if  we  recognize  the  rich 
and  varied  treasures  of  the  "  goodly  heritage"  that  was 
left  him,  at  the  same  time  that  we  recognize  the  per- 
sonal wisdonf  and  virtue  which  led  him,  through  the 
grace  of  God,  to  make  so  noble  a  use  of  those  treas- 


30  Zcplianiah  Moore  Hinnplirey. 

ures,  combining  them  with  all  other  good  influences 
in  the  vital  texture  and  substance  of  his  character,  and 
thus  constructing  the  beautiful  life  which,  from  the 
vantage  ground  of  these  reflections,  we  may  now  pro- 
ceed more  directly  and  closely  to  contemplate. 

IV. 

''  I  ^HE   years  of  Dr.   Humphrey's    childhood  were 

^       passed  at  Amherst. 

The  natural  beauties  of  the  Connecticut  Valley  at 
that  point,  wnth  the  rounded,  wooded  hills  at  the  north, 
and  the  varied  expanse  of  grove  and  field  and  village 
and  hamlet  on  the  broad  slopes  at  the  east  and  west, 
and  the  majestic,  broken  wall  of  mountain  closing  in 
the  view  at  the  south,  with  just  one  opening  to  let  the 
winding  and  waiting  river  through  ;  all  this  panorama 
of  natural  loveliness  and  beauty,  scarcely  surpassed  in 
the  world,  was  a  perpetual  and  keen  delight  to  the  boy, 
in  whom  the  susceptibilities  of  an  artist  were  early 
manifested.  The  educating  influence  of  such  surround- 
ings upon  such  a  child  need  only  be  thus  hinted  at. 

Professor  William  S.  Tyler,  now  the  Nestor  of  the 
Amherst  College  faculty,  and  who  was  already  a  pro- 
fessor there  when  Zephaniah  was  a  child,  says  of  him, — 

"  From  his  childhood  he  was  remarkably  lovely  and 
beloved ;    among   other   boys,  not  the  greatest  and 


Childhood.  3 1 

strongest,  but  the  brightest  and  best,  the  most  lOvely 
and  sunny." 

"  An  exemplary  pupil  in  the  common  school,  if  there 
Iiad  been  a  prize  given  to  the  '  model  student,'  Zcph 
aniah  Humphrey  would  have  received  it.     He  was  a 
general  favorite  with  teachers  and  pupils." 

A  schoolmate  of  his  boyhood,  and  afterwards  college 
classmate  and  life-long  friend,  Rev.  Thaddeus  Wilson, 
now  of  Shrewsbury,  N.  J.,  writes  of  him  thus, — 

"  Zeph  and  I  were  in  the  same  school,  and  were 
friends  as  well  as  companions  from  the  first.  We 
were  a  great  deal  together,  went  skating,  nutting, 
hunting,  and  fishing  in  company.  He  was  a  pleasant 
companion,  exceedingly  mild  and  agreeable  in  his 
temper.  I  cannot  remember  that  I  ever  saw  liim 
angry  with  any  one,  or  involved  in  the  least  quarrel. 

"  He  was  an  active  boy,  with  a  keen  eye  and  a 
steady  hand  ;  had  a  hearty  enjoyment  of  all  boyish 
sports,  and  a  genuine  love  for  nature,  which  sur- 
rounded us  in  the  most  charming  forms. 

"His  treatment  by  his  parents  must  have  been 
most  judicious,  for  while  the  atmosphere  of  truth 
and  piety  was  ever  about  him,  he  was  not  crowded. 
He  was  allowed  to  grow,  and  he  grew  like  a  tree  in 
the  garden  of  the  Lord. 

"  He  was  witty,  fond  of  jokes  and  pleasantry  ;  but 
he  was  pure  of  heart  and  speech.     His  whole  nature, 


32  Zephaniali  Moore  Hiimplirey. 

even  then,  was  under  control.  As  a  boy  he  was  never 
carried  away  by  the  exuberance  of  animal  spirits. 

"  From  childhood  there  was  something  pensive 
about  him.  I  do  not  mean  gloomy  or  depressed, 
but  thoughtful.  The  obligations  of  the  grand  old 
Puritan  theology  made  themselves  felt  as  a  constrain- 
ing power  before  he  was  conscious  of  it." 

These  statements  reveal  the  fact  that  even  thus 
early  Zephaniali  was  voluntarily,  if  not  consciously, 
choosing  not  to  get  away  from  his  ancestors.  They 
were  holding  to  him,  and  he  to  them.  If  he  had 
quite  understood  the  situation,  he  might  have  said  of 
them  as  the  Christian  believer  says  of  the  cross, 
"  Tenco  et  teneorT 

And  it  is  only  a  somewhat  enlarged  statement  of 
the  same  thing  to  say  that  he  was  thus  early  eschew- 
ing all  that  was  evil,  and  laying  hold  of  all  that  was 
good.  Yes,  all!  For  even  now  is  it  manifest  that  it  is 
not  his  way  to  strike  out  in  any  special  and  selected 
lines  of  excellence  and  superiority,  but  to  covet  and 
cultivate  every  quality  of  excellence  that  is  accessible 
to  him  in  these  years  of  his  boyhood.  This  he 
seemed  evidently  to  have  been  doing,  for  it  was  no 
accident  of  his  young  life  that  "  his  whole  nature  was 
held  under  control,"  and  that  amid  all  the  exuber- 
ance of  his  bright  and  eager  boyhood  he  maintained 
a   thoughtful    but    cheerful    submission   to   the    "  re- 


Entering  College.  33 

straints  of  truth  and  piety,"  and  was  "  pure  of  heart 
and  speech."  It  was  doubtless  the  result  of  moral 
struggles  such  as  a  boy  could  wage,  and  moral  victo- 
ries such  as  a  boy  could  win,  and  of  \vhich  there 
was  no  human  witness,  unless  his  wise  and  watchful 
mother  sometimes  shared  them  with  him. 


V. 

"DEFORE  Zephaniah  was  fairly  out  of  his  boyhood 
^—^  — some  years  before  he  was  out  of  his  "  teens" 
— he  entered  college,  and  as  this  event  was  without 
change  of  place,  so  was  it  without  any  marked  change 
of  feeling  or  purpose. 

Having  spent  all  his  days  under  the  eaves  of  the 
college,  and  attended  church  in  its  chapel,  the  transi- 
tion to  membership  in  it  had  not  the  same  impulsive 
force  for  him  that  it  has  for  those  young  men  who  go 
far  from  home  and  possibly  see  a  college  for  the  first 
time  as  they  are  entering  it.  With  him  it  was  only  a 
step  forward  in  the  same  path  he  had  been  steadily 
pursuing  and  amid  the  same  surroundings. 

He  soon  came  to  be  recognized  and  esteemed  for 
his  quiet  fidelity  and  industry,  and  to  attract  attention 
by  his  varied  and  brilliant  capabilities.* 

*  The  verbatim  likeness  of  some  of  these  paragraphs  to  an  early 
part  of  Dr.  Patterson's  Memorial  Address    is  explained  by  the  fact 

3 


34  Zephaniah  Moore  Humphrey. 

His  scholarship,  as  measured  by  his  recitations, 
and  his  rank,  as  indicated  by  the  faculty's  markings, 
placed  him  well  up  among  the  first  third  of  his  class 
through  most  of  his  course  and  at  the  end  of  it.  But 
his  discriminating  associates  early  discovered  that  in 
him  which  led  them  to  expect  quite  as  much  from  him 
as  from  any  other  in  the  class.  On  the  whole,  he 
was  unsurpassed  in  the  recognized  excellence  of  his 
character  and  attainments  and  achievements. 

Professor  Tyler  says,  "  He  was  a  good  scholar  in  all 
the  departments,  excelling,  however,  in  the  classics, 
rhetoric,  and  belles-lettres,  and  at  his  graduation  de- 
livered an  '  oration,'  which  was  an  appointment  next 
in  rank  to  the  three  or  four  '  honors,'  and  he  showed 
the  practical  tendencies  of  his  mind  by  taking  for  the 
subject  of  his  oration,  *  The  Dangers  Resulting  to 
our  Confederacy  from  its  too  Rapid  Enlargement  by 
Immigration.'  " 

Dr.  R.  D.  Hitchcock,  of  Union  Theological  Semi- 
nary, who  knew  him  in  his  boyhood  and  was  his 
tutor  in  college,  in  a  recent  private  letter,  says  of  him 
among  other  things  this  :  "  He  distinguished  himself 
in  English  composition.     This  was  in  the  blood  ;  his 


that  the  writer  of  these  pages  is  one  of  the  "  friends"  of  Dr.  Humph- 
rey to  whom  Dr.  Patterson  there  refers,  and  Rev.  Mr.  Wilson  is  the 
other. 


His  Character.  35 

father  was  a  man  of  great  natural  eloquence,  and 
Edward,  James,  John,  Henry,  and  Zephaniah  all  took 
after  him  in  this  regard." 

"But,"  adds  Dr.  Hitchcock,  "my  supreme  recollec- 
tion of  Zephaniah  was  in  the  line  of  character ;  he 
always  carried  himself  with  dignity,  gentleness,  and 
rare  good  sense,". 

His  friend  Wilson  writes  of  him,  with  reference  to 
this  period,  that  "there  were  tendencies  in  his  charac- 
ter which  might  be  counted  as  a  prediction  of  all  that 
he  became.  These  were  not  obvious  to  a  careless  ob- 
server, but  were  sure  as  to  their  growth  and  outcome." 

"  He  was  not  quick,"  adds  Mr.  Wilson,  "  in  form- 
ing friendships,  but  when  he  had  given  his  affections 
or  taken  his  purpose,  he  was  to  be  depended  on." 

He  had  a  pleasant  reputation  in  college  as  a  hu- 
morist, for  he  was  often  overflowing  with  spontaneous 
sprightliness,  and.  was  famous  for  the  quickest  and 
brightest  of  witty  rejoinders,  as,  for  example,  when 
a  friend  wanted  to  borrow  his  gun,  and  sent  a  boy  to 
him  with  a  note,  saying, — 

"  Dear  Zeph  : 

"  Please  lend  me  your  Pauca  Vide. 

"Sam. 

"Amherst,  Saturday  Morn." 

He  sent  the  boy  back  at  once  with  the  gun  and 
this  answer. — 


36  Zephaniah  Moore  Humphrey. 

"  Dear  Sam  : 

"  I  herewith  send  you  my  Foedans  pax. 

"  Zeph. 

"  Amherst,  Saturday  Morning." 

We  have  thus  seen  enough  of  young  Humphrey 
in  college  to  assure  us  that  he  was  ambitious,  but 
not  for  conspicuousness.  He  was  working,  not  for 
"  honors"  or  prizes,  but  for  substantial  growth, 
growth  in  every  direction,  including  the  physical ; 
for  he  was  active  in  the  games  of  the  campus,  and  was 
accustomed  to  long  and  vigorous  rambles  in  the  ad- 
jacent country  with  gun  and  fishing-rod,  and  he 
knew  every  nook  and  corner  of  field  and  grove,  and 
every  ripple  and  pool  of  brook  and  stream  for  miles 
around. 

As  a  Christian  in  college  he  was  not  conspicuous, 
but  thoroughly  consistent ;  not  as  active  and  demon- 
strative as  some,  but  diligent  in  using  the  means  of 
spiritual  growth,  and  thus  rooting  and  ripening  him- 
self for  subsequent  activity  and  usefulness. 

But  the  most  important  characteristic  of  him  was 
that  which  began  to  show  itself,  as  we  have  seen,  in 
his  boyhood,  viz.,  the  cultivation  of  every  excellence. 
He  seems  to  have  consciously  or  unconsciously,  but 
conscientiously  at  least,  adopted  the  motto  of  the 
Latin  moralist,  to  the  effect  that  nothing  that  is  good 
is  foreign  to  man, — i.e.,  that  every  element  of  excel- 


HigJi  Rule  of  Life. — Teaching.  37 

lence  and  goodness  should  be  appropriated  by  each 
person  as  his  proper  heritage. 

Or,  better  still,  he  had  adopted  the  inspired  thought 
of  St.  Paul  (Phil.  iv.  8),  "  Whatsoever  things  are  true, 
honorable,  pure,  just,  lovely,  and  of  good  report, 
think  on  these  things."  And  not  only  should  every 
person  think  on  and  cultivate  all  these,  but  besides 
these,  continues  the  apostle,  "  If  there  be  any  virtue, 
and  if  there  be  any  praise," — i.e.,  if  there  be  any  pos- 
sible good  or  praiseworthy  thing  not  enumerated  in 
the  above  list,  take  possession  of  that  also, — i.e.,  se- 
cure and  nourish  every  good  quality  of  character  and 
life. 

This  seems  to  have  been  the  chosen  and  steady 
rule  of  Humphrey's  life  while  in  college,  and  that  it 
continued  ever  afterward  to  be  so  will  be  clearly  ap- 
parent as  we  proceed  to  accompany  him  on  his  way, 

VI. 

IT  was  one  of  President  Humphrey's  rules,  in  the 
care  and  culture  of  his  family,  that  each  of  his 
sons,  as  they  left  college,  should  have  a  year  or 
two  of  the  discipline  that  comes  from  teaching.  It 
was  doubtless  a  wise  rule.  And  in  those  days,  plen- 
tiful as  the  "  discipline"  in  the  school  was  for  the 
pupils,  it  was  no  less  so  for  the  teacher. 


38  ZepJianiali  Moo7'e  Humphrey. 

Zephaniah's  time  for  teaching  had  now  come,  in 
the  autumn  of  1843,  just  after  his  graduation  at  col- 
lege at  the  age  of  nineteen  years. 

It  was  providentially  ordered  for  him  that  he  should 
still  remain  under  his  father's  roof  and  amid  the  fa- 
miliar scenes  of  Amherst ;  for,  whether  in  response 
to  his  application  or  without  it,  the  school  directors 
of  the  village  appointed  him  to  be  teacher  there  for 
the  winter. 

There  were  some  unexpected  consequences.  A  very 
natural  and  somewhat  chronic  popular  jealousy  ex- 
isted in  the  village  toward  the  imagined  intellectual 
and  social  aristocracy  of  the  college,  and  to  have  a 
scion  of  that  aristocracy  appointed  to  the  mastery  of 
the  public  school,  and  over  the  head  of  a  representa- 
tive of  the  people  who  wanted  the  position,  was  more 
than  could  be  endured  by  those  sons  and  daughters 
of  Massachusetts.  The  result  was  a  tempest  in  the 
Amherst  tea-pot,  the  vehemence  of  which  it  is  difficult 
to  apprehend  at  this  distance  of  time  and  place.  Some 
prominent  persons  were  known  to  declare  that  this 
"  boy  teacher"  should  not  be  master  of  the  boys  and 
girls  of  his  own  town.  But  the  directors  were  ex- 
citedly firm,  and  Zephaniah  was  quietly  firm,  and  went 
about  his  work  and  accomplished  it  as  calmly  as  though 
he  did  not  know  there  was  any  storm. 

But  the  thing  is  worth  mentioning  as  indicative  of 


Teaching  in  Virginia.  39 

the  circumstances  amid  which  young  Humphrey  had 
his  first  experience  of  public  life.  And  we  can  easily 
believe  that,  notwithstanding  his  outward  serenity,  he 
experienced  during  that  winter  quite  as  much  of"  dis- 
cipline" as  the  teaching  theory  contemplated,  and  that 
not  one  feather's  weight  of  it  was  without  benefit  to 
him. 

But  now  comes  a  call  that  takes  him  away  from 
home.  In  the  spring  of  1844  he  was  invited  to  take 
the  charge  of  a  small  select  school  at  Crednal,  a  quiet 
little  place  in  Loudon  County,  Virginia,  and  he  ar- 
rived there  on  the  6th  day  of  May  in  that  year. 

This  proved  a  pleasant  and  very  improving  engage- 
ment to  him.  He  had  a  home  with  a  cultivated  Vir- 
ginia family,  in  a  fine  roomy  mansion,  where  there 
were  plenty  of  "  servants,"  and  though  he  rebelled  at 
first,  in  his  feelings  at  least,  against  having  every  slight- 
est thing  done  for  him  from  the  time  he  opened  his 
eyes  in  the  morning  until  he  went  to  sleep  again  at 
night,  yet  he  knew  that  the  servants  that  did  it  for  him 
would  have  nothing  but  mischief  to  do  otherwise,  and 
he  learned  not  only  to  acquiesce  in  it,  but  to  like  it 
better  than  he  was  aware. 

He  became  heartily  interested  in  the  boys  of  the 
school,  and  abundant  evidence  incidentally  reveals 
itself  that  the  parents  and  employers  were  more  than 
satisfied  with  the  teacher  of  their  boys.     Indeed,  they 


40  Zephaniah  Moore  Humphrey. 

became  very  fond  of  him,  and  more  and  more  appre- 
ciative of  his  rare  good  judgment  and  excellent  spirit 
and  remarkable  versatility  of  gifts  and  accomplish- 
ments. 

But  the  specially  important  fact  about  this  last  year 
of  his  teaching  period  is  that  he  kept  a  journal  through 
the  whole  of  it. 

It  was  in  the  form  of  a  continuous  communication 
to  his  sister  Mary,  next  younger  than  himself,  of  whom 
he  was  tenderly  fond,  and  who  had  the  closest  possible 
sympathy  with  him,  not  only  having  a  warm  sisterly 
interest  in  whatever  he  was  doing,  but  a  peculiarly 
keen  appreciation  of  any  either  weighty  or  witty  things 
he  might  say.  This  fact,  that  it  was  all  for  her  eye, 
helped  to  impart  a  charming  ease  and  naturalness  to 
the  daily  record  of  his  observations  and  experiences 
and  reflections. 

One  of  the  best  things  about  this  journal  is  the 
vigorous  and  manly  continuance  of  it.  He  did  not 
grow  weary  of  his  purpose,  or  weak  in  respect  to  carry- 
ing it  through.  It  not  only  occupies  hwt  fills  two  folio 
volumes  of  one  hundred  and  sixty  pages  each,  and  a 
vigorous  mental  activity  energises  the  whole  of  it. 
None  but  a  resolute  and  persevering  young  man  would 
have  done  this,  and  none  but  a  person  of  superior  gifts 
and  rare  qualities  of  mind  and  heart  co2ild  have  done  it. 

This  journal  is  almost  equally  divided  as  between 


Glimpses  into  Ids  jfouynal.  41 

the  sprightly  parts  and  the  pensive  or  thoughtful  parts, 
divided,  however,  only  to  the  mind  of  the  reader, 
not  separated  to  the  eye,  for  the  two  parts  mingle  to- 
gether and  flow  into  each  other  like  different  parts  of 
the  same  current.  The  sprightly  parts  are  often  brim- 
ming with  thoughtfulness,  and  the  thoughtful  sparkling 
with  sprightliness. 

The  journal  gossips  about  events  after  the  manner 
of  a  skilful  observer,  and  about  persons  after  the 
manner  of  a  keen  discerner  of  character. 

It  tells  of  the  ludicrous  sometimes,  as  when  "  W 

the  other  day  spoke  of  an  uncxploded  country.  Was 
it  one  which  had  happily  escaped  as  yet  an  earth- 
quake?" 

There  was  a  camp-meeting  so  near  by  that  its  sing- 
ing reached  him  through  the  open  door  of  his  room, 
and  he  watched  it  with  a  candid  but  careful  eye 
through  the  several  days  of  its  continuance,  attending 
most  of  its  services,  and  he  gives  it  full  credit  for  the 
good  it  accomplished,  but  cannot  avoid  the  conclusion 
that  the  unintended  evil  predominates  over  the  accom- 
plished good. 

He  heard  then  and  at  other  times  some  "  excel- 
lent sermons"  from  the  Methodist  preachers  of  the 
region,  one  or  two  that  seemed  to  him  "  truly  eloquent 
and  powerful,"  but  many  of  the  other  kind,  and 
sometimes  very  vigorous  violations  of  taste,  as  when 


42  Zephaniali  Mooir  Humphrey. 

Mr.  W said,  "  Now,  sinners,  if  the  Lord  will  only 

give  us  a  good  hold  of  the  gospel  club  we'll  bruise 
your  heads  for  you."  And  Mr.  R gives  the  solil- 
oquy of  the  Prodigal  Son  thus :  "  Here  I  am  among 
these  hogs,  bad  companions  and  worse  fare." 

In  other  and  serious  passages  the  journal  reveals 
his  tender  side  and  the  strength  and  depth  of  his 
affections. 

For  example,  he  has  been  writing  to  his  brother 
John,  and  has  "  really  made  himself  weep  in  thinking 
and  writing  of  our  dear  mother."  He  did  not  know 
*'  how  much  he  loved  her  till  he  was  separated  from 
her."  When  he  remembers  "  her  tears  and  her  beam- 
ing look  of  love,  he  cannot  prevent  his  own  tears  from 
falling,  and  would  not  if  he  could,  for  they  are  the 
manliest  of  tears."  "  God  grant  the  dear,  dear 
mother  to  live  until  the  wheel  be  worn  out  at  the 
cistern,  and  the  pitcher  be  ready  to  crumble  at  the 
fountain." 

And  he  "  dreams  of  his  poor  dear  Henry,"  and 
has  blessed  interviews  with  him  that  "  seem  like  real 
life,  and  are  a  great  joy  to  him  till  he  wakes  and  the 
grief  returns  afresh,"  the  whole,  however,  leaving  a 
sort  of  conviction  that  "  the  spirit  of  the  brother 
hovers  about  his  pillow  and  pathway." 

And  he  "  loves  the  grand  old  mountains  about 
Amherst,  and  visits  them  in  his  thoughts,  and  then 


Love  of  Home. — Feeling  His  Way.  43 

his  spirit  comes  down  from  the  mountains  and  enters 
through  i^rick  walls  (as  such  substances  can)  into  a 
certain  parlor.  Yes,  there  they  are, — mother !  Mary  ! 
What  is  that  you  have  in  your  hands,  mother?  Ah, 
sewing,  as  usual,  I  see.  And  Mary,  why  are  you  not 
writing  to  your  brother  ?  And  here  comes  father, 
with  his  whalebone  cane." 

And  he  is  "  never  home-sick,"  but  wants  it  under- 
stood, nevertheless,  that  "  there  is  no  waking  hour 
of  day  or  night  when  he  is  not  longing  for  home." 


VII. 

T)UT  the  special  value  of  this  journal  is  in  that 
^^  which  is  largely  under  the  lines,  feelings  and 
purposes  that  are  implied  rather  than  expressed,  and 
that  reveal  the  workings  of  the  writer's  mind  at  this 
choosing  period  of  his  life,  when  he  was  by  uncon- 
scious processes  selecting  and  preparing  himself  for 
the  special  work  of  his  maturer  years. 

It  may  be  said  of  such  a  journal,  as  of  a  person's 
unrecorded  conversation  and  thinking,  that, 

"  Below  the  surface-stream,  shallow  and  light. 
Of  what  we  say  we  feel ;  below  the  stream. 
As  light,  of  what  we  think  we  feel,  there  flows, 
With  noiseless  current,  strong,  obscure,  and  deep. 
The  ceaseless  stream  of  what  we  feel  indeed." 


44  ZepJianiaJi  Moore  HiinipJwey. 

This  is  the  stream  by  which  a  person  is  actually 
borne  on  to  his  destiny.  This  that  he  feels  indeed 
is  the  voice  and  hand  of  God  leading  him  forward  to 
what  he  shall  be,  and  to  what,  at  the  same  time,  he 
chooses  to  be. 

Humphrey,  like  other  young  men  coming  out  of 
college,  found  himself  in  a  wide  world  with  various 
paths  attracting  him,  and  he  had  not  yet  decided 
which  he  should  choose.  It  was  not  like  him  to  de- 
cide quickly ;  it  was  not  necessary  that  he  should. 
"  Non  cito,  sed  bene','  was  his  method.  He  goes  on 
with  his  teaching,  and  says  little  or  nothing  about 
his  future  profession.  Even  his  private  journal  is 
silent  on  that  subject. 

But  as  the  months  pass  it  becomes  apparent  which 
way  he  is  tending,  and  that  he  is  seriously  weighing 
the  considerations  that  ought  to  influence  him. 

The  pursuits  of  an  artist  would  have  been  very 
congenial  to  his  tastes,  and  he  had  the  gifts  that 
would  have  distinguished  him  in  that  sphere.  He 
found  great  delight  in  cultivating  these  gifts,  and  his 
early  portfolio  contains  fine  sketches  of  views  in  the 
valley  of  the  Connecticut  and  in  Virginia,  and  in 
Delaware  County,  New  York,  where,  at  Delhi,  he 
used  to  visit  his  sister  Mary. 

But  he  consciously  discerned  that,  after  all, 
"  Truest  truth  is  fairest  beauty," 


Attractiveness  of  Duty.  45 

that  the  highest  art  is  that  which  fashions  human 
souls  and  helps  them  toward  the  fulfilment  of  the 
prayer,  "  Let  the  beauty  of  the  Lord  our  God  be 
upon  us."  And  though  he  might  have  dreamed  of 
painting  Madonnas,  yet  he  would  have  been  wakened 
from  his  dream  by  hearing  the  Master  say,  "Who- 
soever doeth  the  will  of  my  Father  who  is  in  heaven, 
the  same  is  my  brother  and  sister  and  mother," — i.e., 
the  gospel  ministry  attracted  him  to  the  highest  realm 
of  art,  and  nearest  to  the  very  soul  and  goal  of  the 
beautiful,  and  gave  promise  of  the  most  abiding  mas- 
ter-pieces. 

It  is  known  that  such  considerations  influenced 
him,  and  similarly  conclusive  and  winning  considera- 
tions in  respect  to  the  ministry,  as  compared  with  still 
other  pursuits,  so  that  the  selecting  of  that  profession 
came  to  be  as  clearly  a  matter  of  choice  and  supreme 
preference  as  it  was  a  matter  of  clear  Christian  duty 
with  him. 

Indeed,  duty  and  beauty  were  more  alike  to  him 
in  their  nature  than  the  words  are  in  their  sound. 
He  used  to  speak  warmly  of  the  practical  help  he  re- 
ceived from  the  ideas  of  Wordsworth's  "  Ode  to 
Duty,"  such  as, — 


"Stern  Ivawgiver  !   yet  thou  dost  wear 
The  Godhead's  most  benignant  grace, 


4^  Zeplianiah  Moore  Humphrey. 

Nor  know  we  anything  so  fair 

As  is  the  smile  upon  thy  face  ; 
Flowers  laugh  before  thee  on  their  beds, 
And  fragrance  in  thy  footing  treads." 

Thus  the  vision  of  duty  was  a  vision  of  beauty  to 
him.  Her  voice  was  "  liberty"  as  well  as  "  law"  to 
him. 

It  always  seemed  true  of  him  that  the  claims  of 
moral  and  religious  obligation  were  not  burdensome 
but  welcome.     Obedience  was  a  delight,  and 

"Joy  its  own  security." 

And  in  nothing  was  this  more  manifest  than  in  his 
choice  of  the  Christian  ministry  as  the  work  of  his 
life. 

VIII. 

''  I  ''HERE  are  some  pages  of  original  poetry  in  this 
-*-  journal,  and  in  connection  with  them  some 
very  suggestive  statements,  that  are  important  to  us 
as  indicating  how  strongly  at  times  he  was  drawn  in 
that  direction. 

Thus,  on  Dec.  14,  1844,  he  says,  "After  my  labors 
pedagogic  to-day  I  went  down  to  Welburn  to  dine, 
and  after  returning  finished  that  piece  of  poetry 
which  I  spoke  of  yesterday,  and  which  I  promised  to 
insert." 


Poetic  Inclinations. 


47 


Then  follows  a  poem  of  a  dozen  stanzas,  entitled 
"  La  Vallee,"  concerning  a  picturesque  vale  near  by, 
which  was  flanked  by  towering  mountains,  and  the 
verses  were  "  inscribed  to  the  generous  hearts"  of 
the  people  dwelling  in  the  valley.  The  poetic  gift 
manifests  itself  in  every  stanza,  closing  with, — 

"And  when,  in  future  years,  life's  storms 
Shall  rend  my  swollen  sail, 
I'll  not  forget  a  haven  lies 
Within  this  happy  vale." 

But  on  the  15th  (the  very  next  day)  we  find  him 
saying,  "  I  hardly  thought  my  poetic  fervor  would 
last  me  more  than  a  day  or  two,  and  even  to-night 
I  did  not  think  of  writing  any  more,  but  reading 
Coleridge  has  set  me  into  a  Christmas  Ode,  and  I 
have  written  three  stanzas  of  seven  lines  each  But 
it  is  verging  toward  two  o'clock,  and  I  must  asfain 
dismiss  the  muses,  begging  their  pardon  for  detain- 
ing them  to  such  an  unseasonable  hour." 

The  poetic  fervor  still  remained,  it  seems,  for  on  the 
next  evening  he  says,  "  I  have  finished  my  '  Christmas 
Ode,'  which  I  commenced  last  night." 

So  the  muses  would  not  stay  dismissed,  it  seems. 
Let  us  read  three  or  four  of  the  nine  stanzas  they 
brought  him,  each  muse  bringing  one  in  this  case,  it 
would  seem,  to  show  that  they  were  all  wooing  him  : 


48  ZepJianiah  Moore  Humphrey. 

"  The  aged  year  is  pei-ishing 
By  slow  but  sad  degrees, 
The  wind  e'en  now  begins  to  sing 
His  death-dirge  in  the  trees. 
With  an  ice-sickle  beard  on  his  withered  chin, 
And  the  white  frost  strewn  on  his  temples  thin, 
The  poor  old  year  is  dying. 

"  But  a  day  we'll  give  to  comfort  him, 
He  shall  not  cheerless  go  ; 
We'll  bind  a  wreath  of  evergreen 
Above  his  wreath  of  snow. 
Let  us  honor  him  when  his  life's  on  the  wane, 
For  the  sake  of  the  hours  which  brightened  liis  reign. 
For  the  sake  of  '  auld  lang  syne.'  " 

"  Heap  the  branch  on  the  festal  hearth, 
Until  the  dancing  flame 
Mirrors  its  flashes  in  bright  eyes 
That  flash  them  back  again. 
To  life's  importunate  cares  we'll  turn  a  deaf  ear. 
And  cheer  up  the  heart  of  the  perishing  year 
While  his  last  sand  is  falling." 

Then  follows  the  especially  Christmas  part  of  the 
ode,  in  four  stanzas  of  twelve  lines  each,  and  in  en- 
tirely a  different  measure  from  the  others,  and  the 
whole  closes  thus, — 

"  From  off  thy  altar,  first,  my  heart. 
Let  grateful  incense  rise, 
To  blend  with  tliat  wliich  angel  bands 
Are  offering  in  the  skies. 


Pocvis  on  the  Old  Year  and  the  New.         49 

Then  mayst  thou  well  lend  both  a  smile  and  a  tear 
To  cheer  up  the  heart  of  the  perishing  year 
While  his  last  sand  is  falling." 

Only  a  few  days  pass,  and  the  end  of  the  year 
comes  indeed,  and  he  closes  his  journal  for  1844  with 
"  a  few  lines  which  have  been  suggested  to  me  during 
the  last  moments  of  the  year."  We  cannot  forbear 
copying  a  part  of  them, — 

"  I  turn  my  glance  upon  the  past, 
And  o'er  the  dim  expanse 
Methinks  I  see  a  motley  crowd 
Of  shadowy  forms  advance. 

"  Onward  they  come  !     And  nearer  now 
And  more  distinct  they  seem, 
Tho'  still  they're  glancing  here  and  there. 
Like  phantoms  in  a  dream, — 

•'Old  Wishes  which,  a  year  ago, 
A  yearning  heart  sent  forth  ; 
Desires  which  have  been  unmet  since 
The  spirit  gave  them  birth  ; 

"  Hopes  which  have  thrown  upon  the  heart 
Full  oft  a  soft'ning  ray, 
And  warmed  it  as  the  sunshine  warms 
The  springing  soil  of  May ; 

"  And  Fears,  in  sombre  mantle  dressed, 
Approached  with  mournful  tread, 
4 


50  Zephaniali  Moore  Hiimphrey. 

Shedding  around  the  same  deep  gloom 
Which  months  ago  they  shed. 

"  On,  on  they  come,  those  shadowy  forms ! 
And  each,  as  it  draws  nigh, 
Towards  the  future  seems  to  point, 
And  future-wards  glides  by. 

"  And  as  I  cross  the  narrow  line 

Which  separates  two  years, 

I  see  them  beck'ning  unto  me. 

Those  Hopes,  Desires,  and  Fears." 

As  a  further  illustration  of  the  poetic  gift  that  was 
in  him,  and  remained  in  him,  and  also  of  the  fine 
humor  which  was  so  natural  to  him,  and  of  which 
more  will  be  said  by  and  by,  we  will  record  here 
some  lines  he  sent  to  a  couple  of  very  dear  friends  on 
the  fifteenth  anniversary  of  their  marriage.  They  are 
worthy  of  notice  for  their  combination  of  humor  with 
the  utmost  tenderness  and  beauty  of  poetic  thought 
and  feeling. 

It  needs  only  to  be  premised  by  way  of  explana- 
tion that  the  husband  was  connected  with  the  grain 
business  in  Chicago,  and  that  the  entire  family  had 
spent  a  couple  of  years  in  Europe,  and  that  a  pitcher 
of  Venetian  glass  was  sent  by  express  as  a  compan- 
ion offering  of  friendship  and  affection  with  the  fol- 
lowincf  lines : 


Poem  for  a   Wedding  Anniversary.  5 1 

"  Fifteen  years  of  marriage  !     Tell  us,  O  Poet, 

To  what  shall  we  liken  them. 

To  beads  Venetian,  may  be,  strung  on  a  thread  of  silver. 

Each  year,  before  vanishing,  has  come  to  put  its  bead  on  the  string: 

'tis  a  rosary. 
The  first  bead  is  white,  mainly,  so  it  becometh  the  year  of  the  bridal. 

Specks  in  it,  are  there  ?     No ;   there  is  nothing  but  dust  on  the 

surface. 
The  other  beads  are  of  mixed  and  varied  color, — gold-dust  sprinkled 

in  here  and  there,  blue  streaks  now  and  then,  rose  colors  also, 

crimson,  brown,  mauve  London  smoke  for  aught  I  know. 
One  bead  has  the  name  of  Robbie  on  it,  another  Fanny,  and  so  on, 

time  fails  me  to  mention. 
Two  beads  have  colors  Helvetian,  Italian,  Parisian,  and   what  not  ; 

They  flame,  they  cool,  they  glow  like  Jiingfrau  at  sunset. 
Some  of  them  look  as  if  wheat-grains  were  stuck  in  here  and  there, 

or  corn  may  be,  or  barley. 
On  the  whole  a  goodly  rosary. 


"  These  years  are  fifteen  crystal  goblets. 

The  first  is  filled  with  honey  caught  from  the  dripping  moon, 

The  next  with  the  self-same  article  of  manufacture  domestic, — no- 
body stung  in  the  process. 

Then  the  rest  are  filled  with — perhaps  you  think  honey  is  getting  mo- 
notonous?— well,  we'll  say  wine,  milk,  nectar.  No;  not  ice- 
water  I     I  thank  you :  the  mixtures  are  all  generous. 

Pleasant,  likewise,  are  they  to  the  taste  and  smell,  even  if  there  be 
now  and  then  a  trace  of  paregoric  and  Munn's  Elixir  or  such 
like. 

Confidentially,  it  is  said  none  of  these  fluids  ever  fermented,  or  be- 
came otherwise  such  that  one  would  be  willing  to  smash  any  of 
the  goblets. 


52  Zephaniah  Moore  Hiunphrey. 

"  These  years  are  fifteen  crystal  vases. 

White  flowers  in  the  first  one.     No;    not  camellias,  waxen  images, 

expressionless,  without  even  an  eye  like  a  violet's ;  roses  rather, 

jasmines,  flowers   that   breathe  and  make  love-songs  out  of  the 

octaves  of  fragrance. 
Forget-me-nots,  now  and  then,  in  the  other  vases,  blooming  there 

while  the  '  gude  mon'  is  absent, — ^just  as  if  ihey  were  needed. 
Is    that    an    '  Eidehveiss  ?'     I    suspect   so :    it   is   the    flower   of    the 

lover. 
Thistles  !  Avaunt,  thou  bachelor,  with  nothing  but  bachelor's  buttons, 

withered  at  that,  in  thy  vases. 

"  After  all,  what  is  better  to  signalize  these  years  than  a  pitcher  ? 

That  is  a  unit,  and  these  years  are  one. 

A  pitcher  you  can  fill  when  you  wish  to, — 

Put  recollections,  loves,  thoughts  on  art,  music,  Daniel  Deronda,  and 

all  sorts  of  things  into  the  pitcher  of  comfort  and  pour  them  out 

in  liquid  speech. 
Put  what  you  please  in  the  Venetian  pitcher  consigned  to  the  care  of 

the  express  company. 
Write  the  fifteen  years'  history  on  fifteen  separate  sheets  of  paper,  if 

that  suit  you, 
Then  burn  them,  incinerate,  reduce  them  by  cremation ; 
First  embalm  them  in  the  spicery  of  affection,  then  stand  solemn  by 

as  they  go  the  way  of  the  Barre  de  Palm. 
Gather  them  when  naught  is  left  but  ashes,  all  that  is  not  solid  sub- 
stance gone  off  in  smoke ; 
Commit  them  to  the  pitcher,  and  thou  shalt  have  a  memento. 
The  ink  shall  still  be  on  the  ashes,  the  history  shall  be  there. 
None  but  thou  can  read  it.     Look  in,  now  and  then,  and  smile  and 

weep ; 
For  histoiy  is  real,  though  the  page  be  burnt  as  the  soul  is,  though 

what  held  it  once  be  ashes." 


jfoiirnal  of  Religious  Thoughts.  5  3 

The.se  lines,  early  and  late,  indicate  that  Mr.  Hum- 
phrey might  have  made  himself  at  home  in  the  realm 
of  poetry  and  gracefully  worn  the  "  singing  robes" 
had  he  so  chosen.  They  reveal  to  us  that  the  poet 
was  "  born''  sure  enough,  but  the  preacher  was  born 
at  the  same  time, — not  twins,  but  a  duality.  It  only 
needed,  in  the  direction  of  poetry,  the  patient  indus- 
try out  of  which  greatness  comes,  and  for  which 
there  was  abundant  disposition  in  him,  and  with 
which  there  would  have  been  no  lack  of  inspiration, 
it  only  needed  this  and  the  poet  would  have  been 
viadc  as  well  as  born,  for  poeta  nascitur  ct  fit  is  as 
true  2lS  poeta  nascitur  non  fit. 

IX. 

BUT  Mr.  Humphrey  wrote  another  book  while  he 
was  teaching  at  Crednal.  This  he  commenced 
almost  immediately  on  his  arrival  there,  a  few  days 
before  he  commenced  his  journal.  In  this  were 
recorded  such  religious  thoughts  and  studies  of  the 
Bible  as  might  not  of  themselves  furnish  any  indica- 
tion that  he  expected  to  be  a  minister.  They  might 
have  been  thus  recorded  by  any  Christian  young 
man  with  equal  thoughtfulness  and  eagerness  for 
mental  and  spiritual  improvement. 

But  as   the  year  passes   on  these   studies   assume 


54  Zephaniali  Moore  Humphrey. 

more  and  more  the  character  of  profound  and  search- 
ing theological  dissertations,  some  of  which  are  ex- 
haustive and  masterly. 

He  deals  meditatively  with  such  subjects  as  "  Com- 
munion with  God,"  and  "  Christian  Brotherhood," 
and  "  Christian  Consecration,"  and  such  texts  of 
Scripture  as  "  Faith  worketh  by  love,"  "  He  that  is 
not  for  me  is  against  me,"  "  What  things  were  gain 
to  me,  those  I  counted  loss  for  Christ,"  and  such 
like,  and  nowhere  is  the  treatment  shallow  or  care- 
less, but  it  everywhere  reveals  patient  reflection  and 
honest  application,  whereby  the  theme  is  brought 
into  vigorous  relations  to  his  own  spiritual  life. 

But,  first  or  last,  he  grapples  with  many  of  the 
most  important  and  difficult  problems  of  theology, 
with  reference  to  both  its  scriptural  and  its  psycho- 
logical basis, — "  The  Nature  of  the  Soul  and  its 
Immortality,"  "  The  Doctrines  of  Providence"  (very 
fully  and  ably  discussed),  "  The  Relations  of  God's 
Sovereignty  and  Man's  Freedom"  (of  course),  "  The 
Genuineness  and  Authenticity  of  the  Scriptures," 
and  so  on.  Not  only  did  he  grapple  with  these  and 
such  like  themes,  but  he  discussed  them  with  such 
vigorous  thought  and  such  careful  study,  and  with 
such  a  sustained  glow  of  interest,  and  recorded  his 
ideas  in  so  fine  a  style  of  expression,  that  we  are 
at  no  loss    for   the    reason   that  when  he  began  to 


Maturity  of  his  Early  PrcacJiing.  55 

preach  there  was  such  a  conspicuous  absence  of  the 
quahty  of  youngness  in  the  sermons  of  the  young 
preacher ;  so  that  Dr.  Corwin,  of  Racine,  says  of 
him  that,  "  such  was  the  thoroughness  of  his  col- 
legiate and  theological  training,  and  such  withal  was 
the  balance  and  maturity  of  his  manhood,  that  the 
want  of  experience  was  little,  if  any,  impediment  to 
his  success." 

In  reading  these  essays  one  is  surprised  to  find 
so  much  of  the  breadth  of  intelligence,  and  insight 
of  human  nature,  and  penetration  of  thought,  and 
brightness  of  imagination,  and  wealth  of  illustration, 
and  peculiar  skill  of  expression  which  characterized 
his  maturer  years  ;  so  that  a  person  who  has  known 
and  heard  Mr.  Humphrey  only  during  the  last  years 
of  his  ministry  would  at  once  recognize  the  charac- 
teristics of  his  style,  both  of  thought  and  expression, 
in  reading  these  records  of  his  "  religious  thoughts," 
which  were  commenced  at  Crednal  before  he  was 
twenty  years  old,  and  finished  before  he  was  twenty- 
one. 

Most  persons  who  should  read  these  records 
would  say,  "  This  man  has  no  need  of  a  course  of 
theological  study,  he  is  prepared  now  to  enter  upon 
the  work  of  his  ministry." 

But  a  practiced  student  would  perceive  that,  ad- 
mirable and  mature  as  many  of  these  essays  are,  yet 


56  Zephaniali  Moore  Humphrey. 

the  subjects  are  taken  up  almost  at  random,  and,  col- 
lectively, there  is  not  in  them,  and  does  not,  of  course, 
pretend  to  be,  any  of  the  completeness  and  compre- 
hensiveness of  a  theological  system.  Nothing  was 
further  from  his  thoughts  than  that  he  had  finished, 
or  even  commenced,  his  "theological  studies," — he 
was  diligently  preparing  for  them. 

Occasionally  in  this  book  a  very  fine  separate 
thought  records  itself  in  a  modest  parenthesis  or  foot- 
note, as  when  he  says,  by  way  of  corollary  to  some 
vivid  conceptions  of  the  soul's  immortality, — 

"  The  soul  may  be  compared  to  a  lamp  which,  as 
soon  as  it  is  lighted,  is  placed  in  a  dark  lantern.  It 
sends  a  few  struggling  rays,  perhaps,  through  chink 
and  crevice,  but  break  the  la-ntern  and  it  bursts  out 
in  all  its  original  and  native  brilliancy." 

These  books  make  it  evident  that  Mr.  Humphrey's 
apparent  fidelity  to  his  own  mental  training  in  college 
had  been  real  and  to  the  last  degree  thorough. 

And  during  this  year  at  Crednal,  what  with  his 
daily  teaching  and  his  accustomed  amount  of  rec- 
reation and  exercise,  which  consisted  in  hunting  and 
fishing  and  riding  on  horseback  (of  which  he  was  very 
fond,  and  in  which  he  indulged  in  leaping  fences  some- 
times), and  something  almost  every  day  of  cheerful, 
social  intercourse  with  friends,  how  diligently  must 
many  of  his  best  hours  have  been  employed  in  this 


Diligent  Self -Training.  57 

high  work  of  mental  and  spiritual  and  theological 
culture  !  How  patiently  and  rigidly  must  he  have 
held  himself  to  this  voluntary  intellectual  industry ! 
How  completely  must  he  have  learned  to  abstract 
himself  and  fix  his  thoughts  on  the  subjects  of  his 
study  !  He  seems  to  have  had  an  intuitive  knowledge 
that  the  secret  of  high  success  is  not  in  gifts,  but  in 
the  patient  and  diligent  use  and  cultivation  of  gitts. 
His  admirable  powers  of  thinking  and  feeling,  and 
of  illustrating  and  expressing  thought  and  feeling 
were  not  given  to  him,  but  acquired  by  the  patient 
and  sometimes  severe  appliances  of  mental  discipline 
and  industry.  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  being  congratulated 
on  his  great  intellectual  achievements,  said,  with  char- 
acteristic modesty,  and  yet  with  genuine  sincerity, 
"  It  is  owing  more  to  patient  attention  than  to  any 
other  talent ;"  and  Sir  William  Hamilton  quotes 
Helvetius  as  saying  that  "  genius  is  nothing  but  con- 
tinued attention"  {line  attention  S2iivie). 

Consciously  or  unconsciously,  Mr.  Humphrey  was 
acting  in  accordance  with  this  idea  during  his  long 
year  (almost  fourteen  months)  at  Crednal,  and  acting 
with  remarkable  strength  of  purpose  and  vigor  of 
industry.  It  is  difficult  to  estimate  too  highly  the 
virtue  or  the  value  of  this  year's  work. 

The  acquaintance  which  these  two  manuscript 
books  imparts  to  us  with  the  workings  of  his  mind 


58  Zephaniah  Moore  Humplirey. 

during  that  year,  is  the  more  to  be  prized  by  us  for 
the  reason  that  we  have  not  the  means  of  following 
him  with  any  closeness  through  the  three  following 
years  of  his  theological  seminary  course.  How  he 
would  be  likely  to  improve  his  opportunities  during 
that  time,  with  the  great  and  chosen  work  of  his  life 
fully  fixed  in  his  purpose,  can  be  readily  inferred  from 
what  we  know  of  his  course  during  the  previous  year, 
^when  his  purpose  was  less  decided,  and  when  other 
duties  were  sharing  the  occupancy  of  his  time  and 
strength. 

However,  we  find  another  manuscript  book,  com- 
menced during  his  first  year  at  Andover,  which  is  en- 
tirely aside  from  his  notes  on  the  seminary  lectures, 
and  which  consists  of  independent  treatises  of  his  own 
on  "  The  Origin  of  Evil,"  "  The  Fall  of  Man  and  its 
Consequences,"  "Justification,"  etc.,  showing  a  com- 
prehensive and  laborious  study  of  these  and  such  like 
themes  in  the  order  and  sequence  of  a  philosophical 
system  ;  so  that  we  are  left  in  no  doubt  that  he  con- 
tinued to  depend  for  success  in  the  high  purpose  of 
his  life  not  upon  gifts,  but  upon  patient,  severe  work, 
upon  the  diligent  and  persevering  use  and  cultivation 
of  his  gifts. 


Takes  Ids   Way   Westward.  59 


X. 


''  I  ^HE  "  Macedonian  cry"  from  the  West  entered 
J-  into  his  ear  and  received  his  attention.  He  was 
not  without  solicitude  (nor  were  his  friends  for  him) 
lest  the  character  of  his  tastes  and  methods  might  not 
be  adapted  to  the  rough,  frontier  work  to  which  he 
regarded  himself  as  summoned.  Nevertheless  he  de- 
cided to  obey  the  indefinite  call,  and  though  it  was 
not  without  some  feeling  of  loneliness,  yet  it  was  with 
unfaltering  purpose  and  bounding  joy  that  he  turned 
his  face  in  that  direction,  and  "  went  out  not  knowing 
whither  he  went." 

But  we  are  in  no  need  of  explanations  of  this  move- 
ment. There  would  have  been  more  need  of  finding 
reasons  for  his  staying  nearer  home,  if  he  had  done 
that.  It  was  almost  as  sure  as  a  law  of  nature  at  that 
time  that  the  rising  sun  of  the  life  of  a  strong,  earnest, 
and  untrammelled  young  minister  should  move  toward 
the  West.  And  whatever  might  have  been  his  per- 
sonal timidity  and  self-distrust,  yet,  in  the  light  of 
what  we  know  of  his  superior  preparations  and  his 
eager  purposes,  and  the  deliberate  but  fervent  hearti- 
ness with  which  he  had  married  himself  to  his  chosen 
work,  we  can  only  think  of  him  as  going  forth  "  like 


6o  Zeplianiali  Moore  HjinipJirey. 

a  bridegroom  coming  out  of  his  chamber,  and  rejoicing 
as  a  strong  man  to  run  a  race." 

The  young  State  of  Wisconsin  was  then  a  part  of 
the  "  West,"  and  we  find  Mr.  Humphrey,  in  the 
autumn  of  1850,  already  the  chosen  pastor  of  a  thriv- 
ing church  in  the  city  of  Racine. 

This  was  a  charming  city,  "  beautiful  for  situation," 
on  a  fine  bluff,  between  Lake  Michigan  on  the  one 
"hand,  out  of  which  the  sun  rose  in  the  morning,  and 
a  vast  stretch  of  rich  prairie  on  the  other,  behind  the 
western  edge  of  which  he  was  seen  to  go  down,  often 
amid  gorgeous  accompaniments,  at  evening. 

These  visions  were  a  source  of  constant  delight  to 
the  young  minister,  who  appropriated  them  with  a 
sort  of  surprised  gratitude  as  a  part  of  the  "  goodly 
heritage"  that  had  so  quickly  come  to  him  in  his  new 
home,  and  he  used  to  speak  in  his  letters  with  thank- 
ful enthusiasm  of  the  "  pleasant  places"  in  which  the 
lines  had  fallen  to  him. 

Albeit  he  remembered  with  longing,  though  with 
no  discontent,  the  other  and  different  charms  of  the 
hilly  East.  In  one  of  his  letters  to  Delhi,  after 
speaking  of  the  outlook  from  his  windows,  he  said, 
"  Nevertheless,  it  seems  to  me,  I  would  give  a  thou- 
sand square  miles  of  prairie  for  the  wooded  hill  back 
of  Judge  Hathaway's  house  at  Delhi,  and  the  whole  of 
Lake  Michigan  for  the  series  of  cascades  at  Fall  Creek." 


Fields  of  Work — Larger  and  Smaller.  6i 

But  the  best  of  his  "  goodly  heritage"  was  his  field 
of  work,  embracing  not  only  his  own  parish,  but  the 
rapidly-developing  country  stretching  across  and  up 
and  down  the  State.  He  was  interested  in,  and  could 
have  something  to  do  for,  the  whole  of  it.  This  left 
him  no  thought  of  Eastward  longings  He  enlarged 
himself  toward  the  greatness  and  breadth  of  this  field, 
and  soon  his  was  found  to  be  among  the  efficient 
hands  that  were  touching  the  springs  of  Christian 
organization  and  activity  which  extended  through 
the  State  and  beyond,  and  were  helping  to  shape  the 
institutions  and  the  social  character  of  the  Northwest. 
He  had  a  clear  discernment  of  the  best  methods  of 
church  work,  and  a  persuasive  way  of  advocating 
them.  His  face  was  familiar  and  his  voice  welcome 
in  the  religious  State  Conventions,  and  those  who 
have  the  closest  acquaintance  with  the  early  history 
of  that  region  will  be  quickest  to  testify  that  impres- 
sions received  from  his  wise  and  earnest  words  were 
carried  everywhere,  as  fruitful  seeds  of  good  influence, 
over  the  whole  field  of  what  was  then  the  Northwest. 

In  respect  to  the  more  limited  field  of  his  parish  at 
Racine,  it  is  entirely  prudent,  nay,  it  is  but  the  begin- 
ning of  the  truth  to  say  that  his  success  was  marked 
and  genuine  from  the  first.  He  was  the  first  pastor 
of  the  church,  and  the  two  adopted  each  other  with 
all  the  ardor  and  mutual  confidence  of  a  young  bride 


6z  Zcphaniali  Moore  Humphrey. 

and  groom.  Every  interest  of  the  church  prospered. 
The  congregation  was  steadily  enlarged  and  strength- 
ened. They  were  soon  enabled  to  build  a  substantial 
and  stately  church,  which  avails  and  satisfies  them  yet. 
This  large  edifice  was  soon  filled  with  regular  adhe- 
rents to  the  parish,  and  was  kept  filled  year  after  year. 

The  spiritual  prosperity  of  the  church  was  equally 
marked.  The  increase  of  membership  and  the  growth 
of  spiritual  strength  were  not  spasmodic,  but  steady 
and  continuous.  The  success  was  equally  among  the 
cultured  and  uncultured  people,  but  largely  among 
the  strong  and  substantial  elements  of  the  community. 

Let  us  look  at  the  causes  of  this  success,  first  of  all 
recognizing,  as  he  constantly  and  emphatically  did, 
the  dependence  of  the  whole  of  it  upon  the  divine 
favor  and  blessing  ;  but  the  Lord  works  by  means, 
and  by  means  that  are  adapted  to  their  ends. 

He  was  ordained  and  installed  in  October,  1850. 
In  November  we  find  him  commencing  private  books 
again,  such  as  are  appropriate  to  his  changed  circum- 
stances. 

First,  a  book  on  "  Funeral  Thoughts."  November 
13th,  funeral  of  a  child;  no  text,  but  a  carefully-pre- 
pared address,  tender,  soothing,  instructive,  explan- 
atory of  the  sad  mysteries  of  Providence. 

November  19th,  funeral  of  a  pious  mother;  no 
text,    but    an    appropriate    address,    with    exquisitely 


Fidelity  in  his  Preparations.  63 

delicate  illustrations  of  the  abiding  results  of  quiet 
godliness  in  the  family  and  in  society. 

February  22d,  funeral  of  a  public  man  at  the 
place  of  public  worship,  with  a  strong  sermon  on  the 
text,  "  No  man  dieth  to  himself" 

The  second  book  is  one  of  "  Sacramental  Thoughts," 
commencing  January  5,  185 1,  with  the  suggestions 
again  of  a  familiar  and  vivacious  but  instructive  ad- 
dress, not  of  mere  words,  but  of  thoughts  ;  and  so 
on  from  one  communion  season  to  another. 

These  books  are  just  indexes  of  his  diligence  and 
industry,  his  faithful  endeavor  to  do  everything  well, 
to  make  every  service  accomplish  its  object,  and  every 
address  appropriate  to,  and  worthy  of,  its  occasion. 

XL 

MR.  HUMPHREY'S  sermons,  which  spoke  for 
Christ  and  His  truth,  during  those  years  at 
Racine,  remain  to  speak  for  themselves  and  for  him 
who  made  them.  They  were  elaborated,  not  into 
heaviness  and  dryness  and  obscurity,  but  into  simplic- 
ity and  clearness  and  beauty.  They  were  scriptural 
sermons  and  orthodox  sermons,  and  sometimes  Cal- 
vinistic  sermons,  but  they  were  always  Mr.  Hum- 
phrey's sermons,  and  were  meant  for  his  hearers,  and 
adapted  to  the  very  time  of  their  date  and  delivery. 


64  Zcplianiah  Moore  Humplirey. 

They  were  richly  adorned  with  illustrations,  and  their 
rhetorical  finish  was  fine,  but  with  a  solid  substance 
always  of  honest  and  vigorous  thought,  and  a  sober 
lesson  always  of  important  practical  truth.  They 
charmed  his  people,  while  also  they  stimulated,  in- 
structed, and  enriched  them. 

"  From  no  single  discourse,"  says  Dr.  Corwin,  "  were 
men  likely  to  go  away  without  the  feeling  that  they 
had  been  intellectually  instructed  and  religiously  fed." 

These  sermons  were  far,  however,  from  being  satis- 
factory to  himself  He  judged  them  always  by  his 
ideals,  which  of  course  they  could  only  approximate. 
Therefore  his  estimate  of  his  own  sermons  was  habitu- 
ally and  genuinely  modest.  Not  even  to  those  with 
whom  he  was  most  confidential  did  he  express  or 
manifest  any  delighted  complacency  in  his  own  ser- 
mons, considered  as  his  productions.  This  was  true 
of  him  throughout  his  ministry.  The  only  known 
exception  was  in  the  case  of  the  last  sermon  of  his 
life,  of  which  we  shall  have  occasion  to  speak  again. 
It  was  preached  away  from  home,  by  appointment,  at 
a  meeting  of  his  Synod.  On  his  return  to  his  home, 
the  person  who  knew  more  of  his  private  thoughts 
than  any  other  said  to  him,  "  How  did  your  sermon 
go  ?"  "  Go  !"  he  said,  with  an  eager  and  happy  smile, 
"  for  once  I  have  made  a  ten-strike  !"  This  was  the 
nearest  approach  to  boasting  that  even  that  person 


Adaptedness  of  his  Preaching.  65 

ever  knew  him  to  make,  and  this  was  the  very  last 
of  his  preaching.  Happy  result !  that  he  who  had  so 
long  and  constantly  delighted  others  should  be  per- 
mitted in  the  end  to  delight  himself. 

But  during  those  years  at  Racine,  Mr.  Humphrey's 
preaching  was  a  source  of  continual  joy  and  profit  and 
pride  to  the  people  who  were  permitted  to  call  him 
pastor.  A  chief  reason  of  this  was  that  his  preaching 
was  skilfully  and  studiously  adapted  to  the  conditions 
and  needs  of  his  people,  of  which  he  had  a  keen  and 
wise  discernment. 

Let  it  be  remembered,  however,  that  in  all  we  say 
about  his  adapting  himself  to  his  people  there  is  no 
reference  to  that  kind  of  adaptation  in  which  the 
preacher  seems  to  say,  "  Now,  my  friends,  I  shall  try 
to  get  down  to  your  level."  There  was  nothing  of 
that  in  Mr.  Humphrey.  It  was  not  any  intellectual 
inferiority  of  his  people,  but  a  careful  discernment  of 
their  spiritual  needs  and  cravings,  to  which  he  sought 
to  adapt  himself 

These  varied  needs  were  not  merely  recognized  by 
a  few  words  here  and  there  in  a  sermon,  but  they  were 
thoroughly  and  exhaustively  met  by  entire  sermons, 
so  explaining  each  essejitial  phase  of  the  religious 
life,  in  its  relations  to  other  essential  phases,  that  its 
place  and  value  would  never  be  forgotten. 

For  example,  he  found  that  many  persons  were  dis- 
5 


66  Zephaniah  Moore  Humphrey. 

couraged  about  their  religious  life  because  they  had 
not  so  much  of  inward  spiritual  experience  and  re- 
ligious meditation  as  others  whom  they  read  about  in 
books  or  heard  from  in  the  conference  meetings,  so 
he  early  preached  a  sermon  about  Mary  and  Martha, 
setting  forth  the  distinction  between  the  "  contempla- 
tive" and  the  "  active"  types  of  personal  piety  so 
clearly  that  the  difficulty  in  the  minds  of  those 
troubled  persons  was  entirely  and  once  for  all  re- 
moved, and  they  remembered  that  sermon  and  were 
helped  by  it,  and  by  the  confirmatory  truth  that  be- 
came, from  time  to  time,  associated  with  it,  during 
all  their  subsequent  years. 

This  was  one  of  the  best  characteristics  of  his 
preaching  from  first  to  last,  that  his  people,  regarding 
themselves,  while  listening  to  him,  as  simply  inter- 
ested and  instructed,  would  find  afterwards,  often 
to  their  surprise,  that  a  vitalizing  idea,  an  organic 
thought,  a  living  and  seminal  principle  of  truth  had 
been  planted  in  them,  and  had  so  taken  root  in  their 
natures  as  to  abide  with  and  influence  them  forever. 

His  preaching  not  only  had  this  characteristic,  but 
had  it  in  peculiar  degree  and  more  and  more  remark- 
ably as  he  ripened  in  his  work,  so  that  hundreds  of 
his  people  arc  distinctly  conscious  that  at  particular 
times  seed-thoughts  were  wafted  almost  impercepti- 
bly into  their  minds  by  the  very  breath  of  Mr.  Hum- 


Seminal  Pozver  of  his  Preaching.  67 

phrey's  preaching,  and  so  quietly  and  penetratingly 
deposited  there  that  they  have  been  ever  afterwards 
among  the  moulding  and  formative  influences  of  their 
lives. 

It  is  the  same  characteristic,  that  of  so  presenting 
truth  as  to  impress  it  upon  the  mind  and  give  it  a 
vital  hold  there,  which  shows  itself  in  the  broader 
realm  of  philosophic  and  speculative  thought,  as  rec- 
ognized, for  example,  by  Rev.  John  M.  Bishop,  of 
Covington,  Indiana,  in  an  article  in  one  of  the  re- 
ligious papers  since  Dr.  Humphrey's  death.  He  says, 
"  I  am  indebted  to  Dr.  Z.  M.  Humphrey,  the  lovely 
and  lamented,  for  my  best  and  most  lasting  impres- 
sion of  the  idea  of  organic  church  life.  In  one  of 
his  earlier  articles  he  so  beautifully  presented  the 
thought  that  it  had  to  me  the  air  of  originality.  It 
was  original  in  the  highest  and  best  sense.  I  ought 
to  have  been  impressed  with  so  fundamental  a  prin- 
ciple before  I  met  with  Dr.  Humphrey's  presentation 
of  it,"  and  so  on. 

Many  persons  who  came  in  contact  with  Mr.  Hum- 
phrey, through  his  preaching,  often  felt  that  they 
ought  to  have  known  before  some  principle  or  truth 
which  seemed  so  clear  after  he  had  explained  it,  and 
which,  thus  impressed  upon  them,  became  a  perma- 
nent part  of  their  intellectual  and  spiritual  furniture. 
So  when,  at  Racine,  he  illustrated  the   never  to  be 


68  Zepkaniah  Moore  Humphrey. 

explained  harmony  of  human  freedom  with  divine 
decrees  by  the  rock  at  Gibraltar, — "  divided  above,  but 
forever  one  below,  out  of  sight," — he  left  a  life-long 
impression  in  some  minds,  amounting  to  an  inde- 
structible conviction,  that,  however  mysterious  and  in- 
explicable it  may  be,  the  harmony  exists,  and  forever 
has  its  place,  among  the  "  deep  things  of  God." 

Among  the  causes  of  this  peculiarly  felicitous  way 
of  presenting  truth  so  as  to  print  it  on  the  mind,  or, 
if  it  were  practical  truth,  to  plant  it  in  the  soil  of  the 
soul,  were,  first,  his  habit  of  industrious  and  thorough 
study  of  every  principle  of  which  he  would  assume  to 
be  a  teacher ;  and  then,  secondly,  his  careful  and  acute 
discernment  of  what  was  necessary  in  order  to  adapt 
his  presentation  of  the  thought  to  the  spiritual  re- 
ceptivity of  the  learner.  Thus  there  was  a  perfect  in- 
terior adjustment  of  the  mind  of  the  teacher  to  that 
of  the  taught.  They  were  en  rapport  with  each  other. 
There  was  no  apparent  effort  on  the  part  of  the 
speaker  to  assail  and  take  possession  of  the  hearer, 
and  no  feeling  on  the  part  of  the  hearer  that  he 
was  being  assailed  and  taken  possession  of,  but  the 
thought  flowed  or  glided  from  the  one  mind  to  the 
other,  and  was  the  same  vital  thing  in  the  latter  place 
that  it  had  been  in  the  former. 

This  was  one  of  the  secrets  of  his  quiet  power  as  a 
preacher  from    first  to  last,  a  power  that   was    often 


Unconscious  Leadership. —  The  Son  of  Mini.       69 

irresistible  because,  at  the  time  of  its  application,  it 
was  unperceived  and  therefore  unresisted.  Some  one 
has  said  that  a  person  must  choose  between  leading 
and  seeming  to  lead.  Mr.  Humphrey  never  seemed 
to  lead,  never  seemed  conscious  of  his  own  leader- 
ship, never  tried  to  lead  for  the  sake  of  leading,  and 
partly  for  that  very  reason  he  never  failed  to  be  a 
leader. 

We  were  noticing  that  he  adapted  his  earliest 
preaching  to  the  need;  and  conditions  of  his  people 
at  Racine, — not  to  their  superficial  needs  merely,  but 
to  those  undiscovered  by  themselves  until  revealed 
to  them  through  his  profound  and  comprehensive 
discernment. 

Besides  the  "  Mary  and  Martha"  sermon,  he  early 
saw  the  need  of  preaching  a  clearing-up  sermon  on 
the  manifoldness  or  many-sidedness  of  the  nature  of 
Christ,  and  his  consequent  competency  to  be  the 
Christ  and  Saviour  of  all  varieties  of  persons,  so  that 
the  most  peculiarly  constituted  and  isolated  believer 
could  still  have  a  Christ  of  his  own  (speaking  rever- 
ently), a  Saviour  who  could  understand  //////  and 
sympathize  with  and  help  him.  This  sermon  on 
Christ  as  "  The  Son  of  Man"  has  been  a  message  of 
light  and  comfort  and  strength  to  thousands.  It  was 
rewritten  and  perfected  and  repeatedly  preached  until 
the  voice  of  the  preacher  ceased  to  be  heard  by  the 


70  Zephaniah  Moore  Humphrey. 

ears  of  mortals,  and  is  now  printed  in  a  later  part  of 
this  volume,  that  through  the  eye  its  helpful  truth 
may  find  its  way  to  the  hearts  of  thousands  more. 

Another  of  his  early  sermons  (both  early  and  late), 
which  may  also  be  found  farther  on  in  this  volume, 
was  on  "  The  Centrality  of  the  Cross."  In  this  it  is 
shown  that  Christ  crucified  is  not  only  the  central 
theme  of  all  Christian  preaching,  and  the  central  doc- 
trine of  Christian  theology,  but  the  central  object  of 
all  history.     Whosoever  reads  may  judge. 

The  idea  of  this  sermon  had  an  organizing  influence 
upon  his  theological  thinking  and  conclusions,  so  that 
when,  near  the  end  of  his  life,  he  came  to  write  an 
elaborate  article  for  the  Presbyterian  Review  (July, 
i88i)  on  "the  Theology  of  Professor  H.  B.  Smith," 
he  was  prepared  to  do  the  work  with  peculiar  and 
affectionate  delight,  because  it  was  the  specially 
characteristic  fact  about  Professor  Smith's  theology 
that  he  made  the  doctrine  of  the  cross  to  be  the  start- 
ing-point and  central  principle  of  his  system,  and  this 
was  in  precise  accord  with  Dr.  Humphrey's  early 
preaching  and  his  life-long  tendencies  and  habits  of 
thought. 

The  idea  of  this  sermon  on  "  the  Centrality  of  the 
Cross"  also  gave  law  as  well  as  liberty,  shape  and  yet 
limitless  breadth  to  his  preaching.  He  could  say 
with  St.  Paul,  "  I  determined  to  know  nothing  among 


Ccntrality  of  the  Cross.  71 

you  save  Jesus  Christ  and  Him  crucified."  But  this 
not  only  allowed,  it  encouraged  and  secured  an  end- 
less variety  and  continuous  freshness  in  his  preaching, 
because  all  the  truths  of  history,  and  all  the  truths  of 
nature  and  philosophy  and  literature  and  civil  gov- 
ernment would  be  found  to  converge  towards  Christ, 
in  accordance  with  that  established  doctrine  of  the 
"  Centrality  of  the  Cross."  Hence  the  kaleidoscopic 
beauty  and  variety  of  his  preaching.  A  thousand 
themes,  and  yet  Christ  always  the  theme  !  Ten  thou- 
sand melodious  strains,  and  yet  Christ  the  perpetual 
undertone  of  them  all !  It  is  like  the  variations  of 
some  sweet  and  familiar  air  in  music, — like  the  varia- 
tions of"  Home,  Sweet  Home,"  for  example,  by  Thal- 
berg,  in  which  he  carries  you  through  many  strains 
of  sweet  and  varied  harmony,  amid  all  of  which  some- 
thing of  the  spirit  of  the  central  theme  breathes 
itself,  though  the  actual  notes  of  that  tune  are  quite 
unheard,  except  that  now  and  then,  amid  the  con- 
tinuous flow  of  sweet  sounds,  the  familiar  strains  of 
"Sweet  Home"  salute  the  ear  for  a  moment,  only  to 
be  lost  again  as  the  movement  widens  out  into  other 
and  still  other  variations,  showing  how  much  of  the 
soul  of  music  must  be  embodied  in  that  one  simple 
tune  that  it  can  spread  itself  out  into  such  rich  and 
continuous  and  varied  and  abundant  melodies. 

So  with  the  continuous  stream  of  Mr.  Humphrey's 


72  Zephaniali  Moore  Humphrey. 

preaching  for  thirty  years, — it  was  like  a  prolonged 
anthem  of  varied  harmonies,  drawing  the  material  for 
the  illustration  and  effectual  rendering  of  its  themes 
from  "  the  heavens  above  and  the  earth  beneath  and 
the  waters  under  the  earth,"  from  mountains  and 
plains  and  woods  and  gardens,  from  history  and 
poetry  and  art  and  the  minds  and  hearts  of  common 
men,  and  yet  all  the  parts  of  the  anthem  were  sym- 
phonious,  harmonized  with  each  other  by  their  com- 
mon accord  with  the  one  underlying  and  central 
theme,  the  familiar  tones  of  which  were  made  audible 
with  perpetual  frequency  to  the  most  careless  listener, 
and  almost  constantly  recognized  by  the  ears  of  the 
thoughtful  ones.  Of  course  that  one  theme  was  the 
Divine  Redeemer,  the  Jesus  of  the  gospels.  And 
why  should  not  everything  be  made  to  speak  of  Him, 
since  "  all  things  were  made  by  Him,  and  without  Him 
was  not  anything  made  that  was  made"  ?  Why  should 
not  the  lives  and  deeds  and  writings  of  common  and 
of  uncommon  men  be  made  to  speak  of  Him  of  whom 
it  is  said,  "  In  Him  was  life,  and  the  life  was  the  light 
of  men  ?" 

No  person  who  heard  Mr.  Humphrey  in  either  of 
his  parishes,  no  person  who  reads  the  k\^  sermons  at 
the  end  of  this  volume,  especially  no  person  who 
should  read  the  hundreds  of  sermons  that  are  pre- 
served  in   neatly-written    manuscripts,   could   fail   to 


Unity  and  Variety  in  Preaching.  73 

perceive  that  amid  the  ceaseless  and  marvellous  va- 
riety of  special  topics  and  helpful  expositions  and  vivid 
illustrations,  in  which  nothing  is  too  grand  and  noth- 
ing too  minute  for  his  appropriation,  and  nothing  in 
nature  or  history  or  literature  or  art  seems  to  be 
overlooked,  yet  there  is  the  constant  presence  of  the 
crucified  and  risen  and  teaching  Christ. 

Mr.  Humphrey's  preaching  was  spoken  of  above, 
almost  unconsciously,  as  a  continuous  stream  of 
preaching  for  more  than  thirty  years.  It  was  a 
stream  that  broadened  and  deepened  as  it  flowed,  and 
left  a  constantly  increasing  fruitfulness  along  its  banks  ; 
and  the  waters  of  that  stream  flow^ed  from  the  rock 
that  was  typified  at  Marah,  and  that  rock  was 
ubiquitous  along  the  line  of  Mr.  Humphrey's  preach- 
ing. His  people  "  drank  of  that  spiritual  rock  that 
followed  them,  and  that  rock  was  Christ."  (Ex.  xvii. 
6,  and  i  Cor.  x.  4.)  Therefore  his  preaching  had  life 
and  power  as  well  as  variety  and  freshness,  and  when 
withal  it  was  directed  and  shaped,  under  the  guidance 
of  the  Holy  Spirit,  by  a  peculiarly  keen  and  careful 
discernment  of  the  actual  conditions  and  needs  of  his 
people,  we  may  not  wonder  at  its  quiet  and  steady  but 
rich  and  abundant  fruitfulness,  a  fruitfulness  the  value 
of  which  can  only  be  measured  when  its  quality  as 
well  as  its  quantity  is  taken  into  account. 

In  this  consideration  of  the  characteristics  of  Mr. 


74  Zephaniah  Moore  Hiimplircy. 

Humphrey's  preaching  we  can  hardly  overestimate, 
even  by  repetition,  the  importance  of  his  peculiarly 
felicitous  method  of  so  presenting  the  gospel  as  to 
infuse  it,  so  to  speak,  into  the  minds  and  hearts  of  his 
hearers.  It  was  the  gospel  of  Christ  always  that  he 
preached,  not  the  totality  of  the  gospel  every  time, 
but  "  rightly  dividing  the  word  of  truth  and  giving  to 
each  a  portion  in  due  season." 

His  own  expressed  idea  of  originality  in  preaching 
was  not  to  invent  or  discover  new  truth  for  his  hearers, 
but  to  melt  the  old  truth  in  the  crucible  of  his  own 
thoughts  and  feelings,  and  then  administer  it  for  the 
spiritual  healing  and  nourishment  of  those  who  heard 
him.  He  did  not  dilute  the  truth,  but  he  solved  \t, 
made  a  solution  of  the  very  substance  of  it,  so  that  it 
could  flow,  and  did  flow,  like  a  healing  stream  of  the 
water  of  life  into  the  thirsty  spirits  of  his  people.  He 
did  not  hurl  theology  at  them  in  solid  and  heavy 
chunks,  but  he  analyzed  and  aerified  it  within  his  own 
industrious  and  fervent  soul,  and  then  breathed  it  upon 
them,  so  that  they  were  surrounded  by  it  as  by  an 
atmosphere,  and  inhaled  it  as  the  very  breath  of  the 
Spirit  of  God,  which  indeed  it  was,  coming  through 
him  as  the  Spirit's  instrument.  This  was  a  process 
which  was  symbolized  by  the  Saviour  when  he 
breathed  upon  his  disciples  and  said,  "  Receive  the 
Holy  Spirit,"  and  which  he  expounded   unto   them 


Minishy  at  Racine.  75 

when  he  said,  "  It  is  the  spirit  that  quickeneth.  The 
words  that  I  speak  unto  you  they  are  spirit  and  they 
are  hfe." 

The  influence  of  this  kind  of  preaching  was  pene- 
trating and  persuasive,  and  could  not  easily  be  re- 
sisted. It  was  difficult  for  the  most  captious  to  an- 
tagonize it,  and  strong  men  would  find  that  it  had 
taken  hold  of  them  without  their  knowing  it,  and 
they  had  yielded  to  it  unawares.  Their  spirits  had 
inhaled  the  needed  truth  as  unconsciously  as  their 
lungs  had  inhaled  the  needed  air. 

However,  this  atmosphere  that  was  breathed  from 
Mr.  Humphrey's  preaching  was  not  always  of  the 
soothing  and  zephyr-like  kind.  There  was  generally 
present  in  it  the  ozone  of  a  vigorous  spiritual  tonic, 
and  sometimes  it  stirred  the  assembly  as  perceptibly  as 
a  gale  stirs  the  sea,  and  sometimes,  though  not  often,  it 
was  like  the  breath  of  the  divine  wrath,  and  came  with 
an  infliction  of  pain  to  the  undefended  soul  as  the 
breath  of  a  Wisconsin  "  blizzard"  does  to  the  unpro- 
tected cheek  or  brow.  But  it  was  never  a  manufac- 
tured storm,  gotten  up  for  stage  eflect.  It  came  by  its 
own  propulsion  from  the  calm  and  passionless  depths 
of  changeless  goodness  and  infinite  reason,  and  it  was 
as  useless  to  quarrel  with  it  as  to  fight  against  God 
and  the  truth.  It  was  never  the  needless  severity  of 
the  preacher's  passion,  but  always  the  necessary  se- 


"j^  Zeplianiah  Moore  Hinnplirey. 

verity  of  righteousness  and  love,  so  that,  though  he 
was  searching  and  severe  enough  at  times,  he  was 
never  abusive  of  "  sinners."  He  used  that  word  very 
sparingly,  and  never  indiscriminately  or  flippantly. 
He  had  respect  for  the  rational  and  moral  faculties, 
and  reverence  for  the  souls  even  of  wicked  men,  and 
they  knew  it,  and  he  held  their  attention  and  seldom 
offended  them,  and  often  convinced  and  persuaded 
and  transformed  them.  As  when  he  was  a  boy,  with 
as  positive  a  nature  as  any  other  boy,  he  was  never 
known  to  quarrel  with  any,  so  when  he  became  a 
preacher,  with  as  positive  a  doctrine  and  teaching  as 
any  other,  he  aroused  no  quarrels.  The  severe  things 
he  uttered  were  so  manifestly  the  voice  of  God  and 
reason  and  goodness,  speaking  through  him,  that 
even  bad  men  could  not  quarrel  with  liiin,  even  if 
they  did  with  the  truth. 

There  was  a  man  living  at  Racine  at  that  time,  a 
strong,  sensible,  shrewd  man  of  business,  a  cautious, 
discriminating,  critical,  merciless  judge  of  character, 
not  appreciative  of  refinement  or  nice  culture,  or 
caring  to  be,  but  attaching  supreme  value  to  clear, 
honest,  hard  common  sense,  and  utterly  intolerant,  if 
not  denunciatory,  of  any  absence  of  it ;  and  it  is  a  re- 
markable testimony  to  the  sturdy,  plain,  practical  side 
of  Dr.  Humphrey's  ministry  at  Racine  that  this  man, 
who  attended  upon  the  whole  of  it,  not  only  became 


Pastoral  Work  at  Racine.  77 

a  steadfast  admirer,  but  to  this  day  warms  up  with 
enthusiasm  at  the  very  mention  of  his  name,  through 
sheer  admiration  of  Dr.  Humphrey's  unvarying  prac- 
tical wisdom  and  genuine,  infallible  good  sense. 

The  theology  of  Dr.  Humphrey's  preaching  was 
Calvinistic  in  the  spirit  rather  than  in  the  letter. 
That  is  to  say,  he  preached  the  doctrines  of  that  sys- 
tem without  making  much  use  of  its  technical  terms. 
He  took  his  nomenclature  from  the  vocabulary  of  the 
Bible  rather  than  from  that  of  the  catechism.  He 
was  grounded  from  his  youth  in  the  Westminster 
standards,  and  he  retained  to  the  end  of  his  life  an 
honest  adherence  to  them,  not  in  the  "  ipsissima 
verba''  sense,  but  for  ''substance  of  doctrine. '' 

Mr.  Wilson  very  justly  and  appreciatively  says  of 
him,  "  He  had  mental  courage,  but  he  was  no  adven- 
turer in  the  world  of  thought.  He  was  awake  to 
what  was  new  and  kindly  disposed  toward  it,  but  he 
was  not  a  man  to  lift  up  the  axe  upon  the  carved 
work  of  the  sanctuary.  He  was  restrained  by  a  holy 
conservatism  from  touching  lightly  anything  whereby 
God  "had  made  himself  known." 

Much  might  be  said  about  his  pastoral  work,  but 
little  need  be  said,  because  so  much  is  implied  and  can 
readily  be  inferred  from  what  has  been  said  concern- 
ing the  adaptation  of  his  preaching  to  the  needs  and 
conditions  of  his  people.     This  could  only  be  done 


78  Zcplianiah  Moore  HuDiphrey. 

by  his  knowing  them  ;  and  he  did  know  them  indi- 
vidually, had  a  photograph  of  each  on  his  mind,  and 
was  thus  able  to  adapt  himself  to  all  their  varieties 
of  character  and  condition. 

He  was  much  among  them,  in  their  houses  and  at 
their  places  of  business,  and  manifested  a  personal  in- 
terest in  all  that  pertained  to  their  welfare.  His  habits 
of  study  were  so  systematic,  and  his  work  in  study 
hours  so  prompt  and  economical  of  time,  that  his 
pastoral  work  was  a  semi-recreation,  furnishing  va- 
riety and  comparative  rest,  and  never  seemed  to 
crowd  him. 

He  had  no  selfish  objects  to  accomplish,  but  lived 
and  breathed  and  thought  and  studied  and  worked 
for  his  people,  and  they  knew  it.  They  knew  also 
that  he  was  a  good  man,  honest  and  true,  from  the 
centre  of  his  heart  to  the  very  finger-ends  of  his  life, 
and  they  trusted  and  believed  in  him,  and  he  had 
great  personal  influence  and  power  with  them. 

The  present  pastor  of  that  church.  Rev.  Dr.  Cor- 
win,  says,  "  Perhaps  more  than  any  other  man.  Dr. 
Humphrey  has  left  the  impress  of  his  personal  excel- 
lence and  his  broad,  scholarly  culture  alike  upon  the 
religious  and  educational  interests  of  this  city." 


His  Marriage 


79 


XII. 


TT  was  during  Mr.  Humphrey's  third  year  at  Racine 
-■-  that  he  became  acquainted  with  Miss  Harriette 
L.  Sykes,  who  had  come  from  her  home  in  Westfield, 
New  York,  to  spend  the  winter  with  some  friends  in 
that  city,  and  in  1853  (April  20th),  she  became  his  wife. 
While  we  are  not  permitted  to  say  anything  as 
directly  concerning  her,  we  owe  it  to  him — it  is  a 
necessary  part  of  our  record  of  his  life — to  say  that  he 
regarded  her  as  an  equal  part  of  it.  He  honored  her, 
even  as  she  honored  him,  and  more  than  this  on  the 
part  of  either  would  have  been  idolatry.  She  entered 
into  all  his  studies  and  all  his  schemes  for  Christian 
teaching  and  Christian  usefulness,  and  was  a  co-effi- 
cient factor  in  the  carrying  out  of  those  plans.  And 
in  all  that  is  said  in  these  pages  concerning  the 
beauty  and  efficiency  of  his  work,  he  would  have  us 
recognize  between  the  lines  the  unwritten  name  of 
one  who  was  as  present  with  him  in  his  intellectual 
and  spiritual  as  in  his  outward  and  visible  life,  one 
who  studied  with  him,  thought  with  him,  planned 
with  him,  worked  with  him,  and  in  every  possible 
way  cheered  and  strengthened  and  helped  him. 

The  harmony  and  happiness  of  their  married  life 
was  complete,  and  during  its  twenty-eight  years  seven 
children  were  given  to  them,  six  daughters  and  one 


8o 


ZcphaniaJi  Aloore  Hnmplirey. 


son.  Four  of  these,  including  the  son,  went  before 
in  their  childhood,  and  are  now  with  the  father,  con- 
stituting that  part  of  the  family  which  is  in  heaven. 
The  other  three  remain  to  be  a  comfort  and  treasure 
to  their  widowed  mother,  the  oldest  having  married 
Professor  Edward  P.  Morris,  now  at  Drury  College, 
Springfield  (Missouri) ;  the  second,  matured  in  her 
young  womanhood,  and  able  to  be  a  help  as  well  as  a 
comfort  by  her  mother's  side;  and  the  youngest,  who, 
with  the  femininized  name  of  the  father,  was  called 
Zephine,  is  still  young  enough  to  be  a  sweet  and 
blessed  care,  as  well  as  a  comfort  and  treasure  to  the 
mother. 

XIII. 

'^T^HE  representation  that  has  been  given  of  Mr. 
-*-  Humphrey  as  preacher  and  pastor  at  Racine 
will  serve  equally  well  in  connection  with  his  other 
parishes,  except  that  he  was  constantly  growing. 
There  was  no  other  noticeable  change  in  him,  except 
as  an  increased  mastery  of  his  methods  and  his  mate- 
rial led  to  an  enlargement  and  increased  excellence  of 
his  work.  His  acquaintance  with  his  great  text-book, 
the  Bible,  became  more  profound  and  extensive  and 
varied,  and  thus  the  treasury  of  his  tlionglits  was  en- 
larged, from  which  he  could  "  bring  forth  things  new 
and  old," 


Gois  to  Mihvaitkcc. 


8i 


His  diligent  study  of  nature  and  of  history  in- 
creased his  power  of  ready  and  vnvid  illustratioii.  His 
growing  knowledge  of  men  and  of  the  philosophy 
of  mind  augmented  his  success  in  the  varied  and  dis- 
criminating application  of  truth  to  the  conditions  and 
dispositions  of  his  hearers. 

Continued  and  abundant  experience  perfected  the 
skill  and  beauty  of  his  already  felicitous  and  charming 
style  of  expressing  his  thoughts. 

So  that  he  was  simply  advancing  and  improving 
upon  himself,  and  was  able  to  adapt  himself  to  the 
larger  demands  of  the  larger  parishes  to  which  he 
was  called.  Carrying  with  him  the  same  habits  of  in- 
dustry, and  the  same  spirit  of  devotion  to  his  work, 
and  the  same  excellencies  of  disposition  and  charac- 
ter, he  thus  carried  the  elements  of  sure  success 
with  him,  and  he  was  equally  prospered  and  useful 
wherever  he  went. 

He  left  Racine  for  Milwaukee,  because  the  interests 
of  the  church  at  large  seemed  to  demand  his  presence 
at  the  more  important  centre  of  influence  and  power. 

Dr.  Patterson  says  that  "  in  less  than  three   years 

he  became,  it  is  probable,  the  leading  minister  in  the 

State,  in    point   of  quiet   strength   and    commanding 

power.     To   those  of  us  who   knew   his   unobtrusive 

manner  and  modest  demeanor,  alike  in  the  pulpit  and 

out  of  it,  it  seemed  a  marvel  that  amid  the  bustling 

6 


82  Zephaniah  Moore  Humphrey. 

activity  of  a  rapidly-growing  city  at  the  West  such  a 
man  should  so  speedily  have  gained  a  position  among 
the  very  first  of  his  brethren,  and  be  deemed  worthy 
of  any  pulpit  far  or  near.  During  this  period,  as  be- 
fore, Dr.  Humphrey  was  never  suspected  of  ambition 
for  notoriety,  or  a  desire  to  occupy  any  position  that 
might  be  deemed  honorable  to  himself  for  such  a  rea- 
son. When  a  leader  in  the  church,  as  in  earlier 
years,  it  seemed  to  be  his  simple  aim  to  become  more 
and  more  fitted  for  useful  labors,  and  to  do  the  work 
set  before  him  in  the  best  manner,  embracing  every 
department  of  Christian  activity  and  influence  for 
good." 

This  is  a  golden  record,  made  by  one  who  knows 
what  is  golden.  It  is  a  generous  testimony  to  the  re- 
markable combination  in  Mr.  Humphrey  of  quietness 
with  energy,  and  humility  with  conspicuous  leader- 
ship and  princely  prominence. 

But  another  unsought-for  promotion  awaited  him. 
At  Dr.  Patterson's  suggestion,  the  First  Presbyterian 
Church  in  Chicago  gave  him  a  call  to  its  pastorate. 
The  suggestion  was  prompted  by  kindness  to  both 
the  church  and  the  man,  as  well  as  by  the  accus- 
tomed wisdom  of  the  suggestor. 

It  was  publicly  supposed  that  Mr.  Humphrey  would 
not  be  willing  to  remove,  or  allowed  by  his  church  to 
remove,   from   his   position    in    Milwaukee.     But  Dr. 


Accepts  a  Call  to  Chicago. 


83 


Patterson  knew  privately  a  reason  for  believing  the 
contrary.  That  reason  is  very  delicately  given  in  Dr. 
Patterson's  address,  page  9. 

It  was  essentially  this,  that  Mr.  Humphrey  could 
not  bring  himself  into  complete  accord  with  the  Con- 
gregationalism of  his  church  at  Milwaukee,  and  was 
unwilling  to  antagonize  it.  He  had  become  con- 
vinced that  the  organic  structure  of  that  Congregation- 
alism was  neither  scriptural  nor  expedient.  He  had  no 
conflict  with  the  church,  nor  they  with  him.  Their 
mutual  relations  were  pleasant  and  peaceful  from  first 
to  last,  so  that  it  was  not  the  experience  of  pressure, 
as  in  the  case  of  President  Edwards  at  Northampton, 
a  hundred  years  earlier,  but  the  pressure  of  experi- 
ence that  led  him  to  prefer  the  Presbyterian  to  the 
Congregational  Church  polity,  and  he  distinctly  de- 
clared at  the  time  that  he  could  not  and  would  not 
have  left  Milwaukee  except  for  the  conscientious 
and  therefore  insurmountable  conviction  that  the 
line  of  his  duty  led  him  into  the  Presbyterian  Church. 
Therefore  the  call  to  the  First  Church  in  Chicago 
was  opportune  and  open  to  him,  and  he  accepted 
it. 

Here  he  entered  upon  a  still  larger  and  more  invit- 
ing field  of  labor.  Again  the  generous  testimony  of 
his  co-presbyter  and  near  neighbor,  Dr.  Patterson, 
comes  to  our  aid,  and  with  a  grateful  appreciation  of 


84  Zeplianiah  Moore  HitnipJirey. 

both  its  justness  and  its  generosity,  we  quote  it  from 
his  memorial  address,  pp.  9  and  10  : 

"  Here,  as  elsewhere,  his  labors  were  quietly  but 
arduously  performed.  '  Careful  progress  in  all  direc- 
tions' was  his  motto.  He  created  no  great  sensation 
as  a  preacher,  but  steadily  gained  the  increasing 
respect  of  his  congregation  and  of  the  whole  com- 
munity as  a  clear,  attractive,  and  forcible  expounder 
of  divine  truth  in  its  practical  applications.  .  .  . 

"  He  only  needed  to  be  known  in  our  great  and 
stirring  community  to  be  honored  as  a  finished  and 
impressive  preacher  of  the  gospel  and  a  Christian 
gentleman  of  rare  accomplishments.  I  well  remem- 
ber with  what  respect  and  admiration  he  was  spoken 
of  by  the  educated  young  men  of  our  city  beyond 
the  pale  of  his  own  congregation,  and  the  high  esteem 
in  which  he  was  held  by  his  ministerial  brethren  of  all 
denominations.  Perhaps  the  best  part  of  all  the  good 
work  he  did  in  Chicago  consisted  in  the  remarkably 
fine  organhatioji  of  his  people,  younger  and  older,  for 
systematic  beneficence  and  for  Christian  efficiency  in 
Sunday-school  and  mission  enterprises.  .  .  . 

"  From  that  day  onward  the  social,  moral,  and  spir- 
itual forces  of  that  church  have  been  gaining  strength, 
until  it  has  visibly  assumed  a  position  of  commanding 
influence  such  as  few  other  churches  in  the  West  now 
occupy.     It  is  worth   more  than  nine  years  of  even 


Quality  of  his  Chicago  Congregation.  85 

such  a  life  to  have  contributed  in  such  large  measure 
to  the  permanent  character  of  such  a  Christian  organ- 
ization in  such  a  centre  of  commercial,  social,  politi- 
cal, and  religious  power,  in  the  midst  of  the  prospec- 
tive millions  and  scores  of  millions  of  the  Northwest." 
Mr.  Humphrey  was  greatly  favored  in  respect  to 
the  kinds  of  men  that  he  drew  around  him  at  Chicago, 
and  around  whom  he  threw  the  silken  cords  of  his 
influence, — active  business  men  in  the  very  prime  of 
their  lives,  some  men  of  highest  education  and  finest 
culture,  some  men  of  large  enterprise  and  prominent 
influence,  men  of  sterling  worth  and  judicial  prudence, 
men  of  conspicuous  and  persevering  energy,  generous 
and  whole-souled  men,  and  throngs  of  younger  men 
just  entering  upon  lives  of  activity  and  influence  in 
the  great  and  growing  city.  Over  all  these  and  others 
undescribed,  the  men  and  women  and  children  of  his 
congregation,  he  not  only  gained  a  strong  influence, 
but  the  manifold  excellencies  of  his  ministry,  to  which 
no  good  quality  seemed  to  be  wanting,  so  touched  all 
classes  of  them,  and  touched  each  individual  of  them 
at  so  many  points,  that  he  had  their  peculiar  and  un- 
bounded affection.  He  and  the  nameless  one  by  his 
side  were  beloved,  admired,  honored  by  all  and  sin- 
gular of  this  large  parish  to  such  degree  as  seldom 
falls  to  the  lot  of  minister  or  any  other  mortal  man. 
Nothing  was  ever  more  genuine  and  legitimate  than 


86 


Zcphaniah  Moore  Humphrey. 


this  unanimous  and  almost  supreme  affection  of  this 
people  for  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Humphrey,  and  yet  it  is  too 
sacred  and  tender  a  thing  to  be  spoken  of  more  par- 
ticularly, and  we  will  only  add  that  when  the  General 
Assembly  of  the  Presbyterian  Church  met  with  this 
First  Church  in  Chicago  in  1870,  some  years  after  he 
had  left  it,  although  the  movement  for  making  him 
moderator  originated  in  Philadelphia,  and  was  strong 
from  the  first  by  reason  of  his  acknowledged  ability 
and  fitness  for  the  position,  yet  a  manifest  desire  both 
to  gratify  and  endorse  this  undiminished  affection  and 
admiration  of  Mr.  Humphrey's  Chicago  people  for 
him  showed  itself  in  his  election  to  the  moderator- 
ship,  which  high  and  difficult  position  he  filled  as 
creditably  to  himself  and  as  satisfactorily  to  all  con- 
cerned as  he  did  each  and  every  other  position  that 
he  ever  occupied. 

XIV. 

"DUT,  notwithstanding  Mr.  Humphrey's  continued 
-'^  usefulness  at  Chicago,  and  the  peculiarly  strong 
mutual  affection  between  him  and  his  people,  there 
comes  another  change  of  place  to  be  accounted  for. 

He  had  been  repeatedly  crippled  and  Mrs.  Humph- 
rey several  times  alarmingly  prostrated  by  the  severe 
climate  of  Chicago,  in  connection  with  their  consum- 
ing devotion  to  their  work. 


Invited  to  Pliiladelpliia. 


87 


In  1868,  at  the  end  of  summer,  they  returned  from 
their  Hberal  vacation  not  recruited.  At  their  tea-table, 
in  the  presence  of  a  brother  minister,  this  matter  of 
health  was  the  subject  of  conversation.  Mr.  Humph- 
rey said  to  his  wife,  "  You  initst  leave  Chicago."  She 
replied,  across  the  table,  "  You  must  leave  Chicago." 

The  brother  minister  said  nothing,  but  on  going  to 
his  study  wrote  a  few  lines  that  very  evening  to  a 
friend  in  Philadelphia,  saying,  "  It  is  a  settled  thing 
that  Dr.  Humphrey,  for  health's  sake,  must  leave 
Chicago.  Perhaps  Calvary  Church  will  be  interested 
to  know  it." 

A  few  days  later  Dr.  Humphrey  was  surprised  by 
the  receipt  of  a  letter  from  Calvary  Church  in  Philadel- 
phia, saying,  "  We  are  told  that  you  must  leave  Chi- 
cago. Will  you  consider  a  call  from  us  ?"  And  before 
he  could  get  an  answer  to  them  the  call  itself  came. 

His  family  physician,  one  of  his  warmest  admirers, 
had  the  courage  and  fidelity  to  tell  him  frankly  that 
it  was  his  duty  to  go.  And  when  his  people  remon- 
strated, and  offered  to  wait  for  him  during  several 
years  of  rest,  and  signifying  their  desire  to  do  any- 
thing that  might  be  needful  to  bring  him  back  to 
them  and  keep  him  and  Mrs.  Humphrey  among 
them,  his  constant  and  only  answer,  given  amid  his 
tears  sometimes,  was,  "  All  that  does  not  remove  the 
difficulty  :  we  cannot  live  in  Chicago." 


88  ZepJianiaJi  Moore  Hiiniplirey. 

And  so  the  separation  was  accomplished,  amid  uni- 
versal regrets  and  many  tears. 

The  story  of  this  great  trial  to  pastor  and  people, 
and  of  the  noble  spirit  of  submission  to  the  divine 
will  with  which  they  bore  it,  is  told  in  a  pamphlet 
printed  at  the  time  by  order  of  the  congregation. 
This  pamphlet  contains  Dr.  Humphrey's  letter  of 
resignation,  in  which  he  sets  forth  the  one  cause 
which  necessitates  his  going,  and  the  predominant 
spirit  of  the  communication  is,  as  it  needs  to  be,  a 
^spirit  of  resignation  indeed. 

The  pamphlet  next  contains  the  resolutions  of 
response,  adopted  amid  deepest  emotion  by  the  con- 
gregation, which  should  also  be  designated  as  resolu- 
tions of  resignation. 

And  then  comes,  finally,  the  "Farewell  Sermon"  by 
Dr.  Humphrey,  from  the  text  (Acts  xxi.  14),  "And 
xvJien  lie  zvoiild  not  be  persuaded  they  ceased,  saying.  The 
will  of  the  Lord  be  doneT  This  sermon  was  written 
and  uttered,  as  the  text  indicates,  not  for  himself,  but 
for  his  people  and  from  their  stand-point,  and  in  order 
to  help  tJiem  to  resign. 

From  the  above-mentioned  resolutions  of  the  con- 
gregation, the  following  is  a  brief  extract : 

"  In  taking  leave  of  our  pastor,  he  has  from  us  that 
deep  sense  of  gratitude  and  obligation,  which  nothing 
but  faithful  and  untiring  devotion  to  duty  and  truth 


Farezvell  and  Removal. 


89 


can  evoke,  and  which  comes  alone  from  honest  hearts 
in  the  hour  of  separation.  He  has  given  us  nine 
years  of  the  work-time  and  summer  of  his  life.  We 
hoped  to  have  travelled  on  with  him  well  into  the 
autumn,  but  we  shall  all  treasure  up  and  carry  with 
us  to  our  journey's  end  the  much  that,  with  his  learn- 
ing and  devotion  to  truth,  he  has  taught  us  of  the 
Christian  life  and  hope." 

This  is  but  saying,  under  feeling  so  strong  and  full 
as  evidently  to  embarrass  utterance,  what,  in  its  es- 
sential purport,  each  of  the  congregations  to  which 
he  ministered  would  heartily  endorse. 


XV. 

nr^HE  seven  years  of  Dr.  Humphrey's  pastorate  in 
-*-  the  serene  and  cultured  city  of  Philadelphia 
had  a  peculiar  relation  to  the  full  maturity  of  his  life 
as  preacher  and  pastor.  They  were  years  of  contin- 
ued and  unrelaxed  industry.  The  common  atmos- 
phere of  business  and  society,  as  of  nature  and  climate, 
was  less  stimulating  there  than  at  Chicago,  yet /^t' was 
never  more  stimulated.  As  he  had  always  seemed 
calm  and  judicially  deliberate  amid  the  eager  excite- 
ments of  the  West,  which  were  intensified  at  Chicago, 
so  was  he  always  animated  and  energetic  amid  his 
quieter    surroundings    in    Philadelphia.     The    strong 


90  Zcplianiali  Moore  Hinnplirey. 

and  evenly-balanced  elements  of  his  inner  life  were 
adequate  to  both  these  results. 

There  seemed  to  be  nothing  wanting  to  him  at 
Chicago,  and  yet  evidently  much  was  made  up  to 
him  at  Philadelphia.  He  was  in  more  direct  and  close 
connection  with  the  centres  of  organization  for  the 
world-wide  work  of  the  church.  In  these  organiza- 
tions, and  outside  of  them,  he  was  brought  in  contact 
and  co-operation  with  a  larger  number  of  the  wisest 
and  strongest  and  most  richly  endowed  men  of  the 
church  and  of  the  nation,  men  older  and  riper  than 
he.  He  had  some  of  them  in  his  session.  He 
preached  to  them  in  his  congregation.  He  sat  with 
them  at  the  meetings  of  permanent  committees,  where 
large  enterprises  of  Christian  beneficence  and  of  public 
improvement  were  under  consideration.  He  met  them 
also  in  social  life.  All  this  was  healthfully  stimulating 
to  him.  It  broadened  his  horizons  and  thus  enlarged 
him.  It  drew  from  the  deepest  fountains  of  his  intel- 
lectual and  moral  nature,  and  thus  not  only  ripened 
him  in  directions  where  there  was  an  imperceptible 
unripeness  before,  but  gave  a  richer  bloom  and  a  finer 
flavor  in  directions  where  there  was  ripeness  before. 

In  his  earlier  ministry  he  had  a  favorite  sermon  on 
a  part  of  one  of  the  verses  of  the  104th  Psalm,  where, 
leaving  out  the  needless  and  weakening  Italics,  he  finds 
for  his  text  the  words,  "  The  trees  of  the  Lord  are  full" 


"  TJie  Trees  of  the  Lord!' 


91 


This  was  a  very  suggestive  and  uplifting  sermon  in  the 
direction  of  fulness  of  Christian  growth  and  fruitful- 
ness,  securable  from  the  fulness  of  the  divine  provisions. 

"  The  trees  of  the  Lord," — i.e.,  those  trees  which  the 
Lord  has  chosen  to  make  complete, — the  ideal  trees 
(Ez.  xxxi.  3-9),  are  not  only  full  of  the  sap  and  juice 
of  an  abundant  vitality,  but  they  strike  their  roots 
deep  into  the  fertility  of  the  soils  and  sub-soils,  and 
they  develop  upward  and  outward  in  vastness  and 
fulness  and  symmetry,  and  if  they  are  fruit-trees,  they 
load  themselves  with  rich  and  thrifty  fruit,  and  as  they 
mature  the  nourishment  drawn  from  the  deepest  soils 
and  the  aromas  inhaled  from  the  purest  air  and  the 
fullest  sunshine  show  themselves  in  the  choicest  and 
handsomest  and  most  finely  flavored  fruit  on  the  very 
topmost  branches."  That  is  the  "  tree  of  the  Lord" 
when  it  is  "full." 

Mr.  Humphrey  did  not  know  when  he  wrote  that 
sermon  how  accurately  he  was  prophesying.  But 
much  of  its  highest  significance  was  spiritually  real- 
ized in  himself,  in  the  attainments  of  those  culminat- 
ing years  of  his  life,  as  preacher  and  pastor,  which 
were  passed  at  Philadelphia.  The  deepest  elements 
of  his  nature  were  quickened  by  the  influences  that 
surrounded  him  and  the  claims  that  were  made  upon 
his  mind  and  heart,  and  the  highest  qualities  of  his 
character  assumed  a  special  bloom  and  beauty. 


92  Zcplianiali  Moore  HnmpJwey. 

It  was  while  he  was  at  Philadelphia  that  the  long- 
coveted  privilege  of  a  trip  to  Europe  was  granted 
him.  He  spent  a  few  busy,  happy,  fruitful  months 
with  his  family  in  Great  Britain  and  on  the  Conti- 
nent. 

He  felt  himself  greatly  profited  by  that  voyage  and 
journey.  It  could  not  be  otherwise  but  that  he  would 
be  quickened  and  enriched  by  it  in  mind  and  heart. 
Not  only  a  lover,  but  a  very  priest  of  nature,  who 
more  than  he  would  find  grand  and  inspiring  views 
of  nature  and  of  nature's  God  everywhere, — on  the 
sea,  amid  the  lakes  of  England,  where  the  poetry  of 
a  peaceful  religion  has  so  many  shrines ;  amid  the 
Highlands  of  Scotland,  where  the  wild  and  craggy 
scenery  is  in  such  perfect  consonance  with  the  turbu- 
lent events  and  heroic  deeds  that  are  historically  asso- 
ciated with  it;  and  among  the  mountains  of  Switzer- 
land ? 

A  lover  and  a  connoisseur  of  art,  who  more  than  he, 
with  his  quick  eye  and  appreciative  discernment, 
would  catch  almost  at  a  glance  in  the  cathedrals  and 
ruined  abbeys  of  Great  Britain  and  in  the  galleries  of 
Italy  and  Paris  what  long-continued  study  would  not 
give  to  the  ordinary  traveller  ? 


Professorship  at  Latic  Seminary. 


93 


XVI. 


TN  the  spring  of  1875,  Dr.  Humphrey  was  elected 
-'-  to  the  chair  of  "  Ecclesiastical  History^  and 
Church  Polity"  in  Lane  Theological  Seminary  at 
Cincinnati,  which  appointment,  after  careful  consider- 
ation, he  deemed  it  both  a  duty  and  a  privilege  to 
accept.  He  entered  upon  the  duties  of  that  profes- 
sorship in  September,  1875,  at  the  beginning  of  the 
seminary  year. 

His  ability  to  adapt  himself  to  his  new  work  was 
made  manifest  at  the  outset  by  his  "  Inaugural  Ad- 
dress," the  subject  of  which  was  "  History  as  a  Record 
of  Thought,'' — not  a  record  of  events  merely,  but  of  the 
thoughts,  ideas,  intelligent  purposes  and  plans  which 
are  sure  to  be  found  underlying  the  events ;  human 
thoughts  and  purposes  lying  nearer  the  surface,  but 
always  God's  thoughts  and  purposes  ultimately  and 
at  the  bottom.  Even  as  the  devout  Kepler,  after  the 
assured  discovery  of  the  great  law  of  the  planetary 
system,  bowed  his  knees  and  reverently  said,  "  O 
God !  I  am  but  thinking  thy  thoughts  after  thee !" 

But  the  history  of  human  events  is  a  record  of 
God's  thoughts  and  purposes,  revealing  themselves 
in  and  through  men's  thoughts  and  purposes.  This 
is  Dr.  Humphrey's  idea,  and  he  illustrates  it  thus  : 


94  ZcpJianiah  Moore  HiinipJircy. 

"  It  is  common  to  speak  of  a  tree,  a  flower,  a  bit  of 
moss  as  revealing  God's  thought  in  their  construc- 
tion, but  they  reveal  it  equally  in  their  uses,  as 
adapted  to  promote  the  well-being  of  man.  When  a 
tree  is  used  for  a  ship's  mast,  a  flower  for  the  healing 
of  a  disease,  a  tuft  of  moss  for  a  cushion,  a  new  reve- 
lation is  made  of  the  thoughts  of  God  as  well  as  of 
the  thoughts  of  man  ;  for  God  made  these  things 
with  reference  to  these  uses,  and  then  constituted  the 
mind  of  man  so  that  it  should  discover  the  uses  and 
apply  them." 

Thus  a  so;//  is  put  into  history.  It  is  no  more  a 
dead  catalogue  of  facts  and  names  and  figures,  but 
spirit  and  life  are  imparted  to  all  its  records,  and  a 
meaning  and  importance  given  to  the  study  of  it 
which  can  but  awaken  the  interest  and  enthusiasm  of 
every  susceptible  student.  Dr.  Humphrey  gives  his 
own  expression  of  this  idea,  near  the  close  of  his 
address,  when  he  says,  "  Here,  then,  is  disclosed  the 
place  which  is  held  by  ecclesiastical  history  in  the 
curriculum  of  a  seminary  whose  object  is  the  training 
of  young  men  for  the  gospel  ministry.  Were  its 
study  that  of  facts  alone,  irrespective  of  what  they 
teach,  it  would  have  but  a  minor  importance.  Were 
its  end  served  by  filling  the  mind  with  names  and 
dates, — names  of  no  more  significance  than  those  cut 
on    the    tombstones    of    a    cemetery,    dates    telling 


History  as  a  Record  of  Thought.  95 

nothing  more  than  the  figures  on  the  milestones  of  a 
deserted  road, — the  end  would  scarcely  authorize  the 
beginning  of  the  study.  Those  who,  in  pursuing 
their  theological  course,  have  regarded  the  history  of 
the  church  as  only  this,  or  chiefly,  have  failed  to  un- 
derstand the  lowest  of  its  uses.  They  have  found  it 
duller  than  a  graveyard,  and  drier  than  the  dust  which 
is  nothing  to  them  though  it  be  the  dust  of  dead 
heroes.  It  is  not  strange.  But  if  one  rightly  appre- 
hends at  the  outset  what  this  study  is,  and  what  it  can 
do  for  him,  he  will  pursue  it  with  all  the  interest  and 
enthusiasm  of  which  his  nature  is  capable." 

He  entered  with  his  characteristically  quiet  eager- 
ness upon  the  duties  of  his  professorship,  and  such 
were  the  breadth  and  comprehensiveness  of  his  at- 
tainments, that  he  seemed  to  all  but  himself  as  well 
qualified  for  it  as  though  he  had  devoted  years  of 
his  previous  life  to  studies  pertaining  to  this  very  de- 
partment. His  system  of  instruction  took  mature 
shape  and  character  almost  at  once,  and  from  the  first 
he  was  ready  for  his  classes  with  the  most  and  the 
best  that  it  was  possible  for  them  to  receive. 

Possibly  he  was,  in  one  respect,  a  better  teacher  for 
them  than  he  would  be  after  years  of  experience  in 
that  particular  chair,  because  he  was  a  fellow-learner 
with  them,  and  less  likely  to  overlook  any  helpful 
hints  they  might  need,  more  likely  to  lead  them  step 


96  Zcpliaiiiali  Moore  Humphrey. 

by  step,  instead  of  springing  with  them  across  broad 
intervals  which  would  be  familiar  to  him,  but  unknown 
ground  to  them. 

At  all  events  he  was  completely  successful  from  the 
first,  so  far  as  the  stimulation  and  guidance  and  in- 
struction of  his  classes  was  concerned,  albeit  during 
those  five  years  the  whole  subject  of  history,  as  the 
record  of  divine  and  human  thoughts, — of  history  as 
connected  with  the  "  Centrality  of  the  Cross,"  or  with 
God's  plan  of  redemption, — was  opening  itself  so 
grandly  to  his  investigations,  and  organizing  itself  so 
clearly  under  the  presentative  and  representative  facul- 
ties of  his  mind,  that  his  associates  in  the  seminary 
could  not  adequately  express  their  sense  of  loss  in  the 
sudden  interruption  and  termination  of  his  work. 

But,  aside  from  his  success  in  his  own  particular 
department  of  instruction,  his  influence  in  the  semi- 
nary as  a  man  was  felt  to  be  of  incalculable  value.  A 
man  of  genial  and  sprightly  conversation,  of  pure  mo- 
tives, of  almost  infallible  good  judgment,  of  cheering 
courage  and  hopefulness,  of  genuine  but  unconscious 
greatness,  of  beautiful  completeness  and  symmetry  of 
character,  his  presence  was  a  constant  blessing  to  the 
students,  and  they  received  only  good  from  him  on 
whatever  side  and  at  whatever  points  they  touched  him. 

However,  liis  usefulness  in  the  seminary,  outside 
of  his   own   special   department,    was   not   all    of  this 


MoDiiiig  Lectures.  97 

unconscious  and  unlaborious  kind.  He  has  left  an- 
other manuscript  book,  which  reveals  the  most  indus- 
trious and  skilful  preparation  on  his  part  to  instruct 
and  fortify  the  young  men  in  every  possible  direction 
of  prospective  usefulness. 

For  example,  there  were  certain  weeks  during  which 
he  would  have  all  the  classes  together  each  morning 
for  an  hour,  in  connection  with  morning  prayers  in 
the  seminary  chapel.  He  would  have  a  carefully- 
digested  plan  of  instruction  on  some  important  sub- 
ject for  all  the  mornings  of  each  of  his  weeks, — i.e., 
the  general  theme  would  extend  through  the  entire 
week,  with  a  special  subordinate  theme  or  topic  for 
each  of  the  six  mornings.  The  students  would  con- 
duct the  devotional  service,  each  in  his  turn,  morning 
by  morning,  and  then  would  come  this  lecture  or 
practical  study. 

One  of  these  weeks,  e.g.,  was  that  preceding  the 
Presidential  election  in  1880.  He  occupied  them  with 
appropriate  topics  as  follows  : 

Monday — God's  Control  of  the  Nations. 

Tuesday — Relations  of  the  Gospel  to  Liberty. 

Wednesday — Toleration  in  Political  Opinion. 

Thursday — Godliness  as  a  Political  Force. 

PViday — Education  of  the  Political  Conscience. 

Saturday — Duty  of  Prayer  for  Voters  and  Rulers. 

Can  anything  be  conceived  more  wise  and  thorou^h- 
7 


98  ZcplianiaJi  JMoore  HinupJiny. 

going  on  the  part  of  an  instructor,  or  more  healthfully 
and  comprehensively  educating  for  young  men  who 
are  soon  to  be  pastors  and  teachers  in  republican 
communities  ?  Can  anything  be  conceived  more  com- 
plete than  a  system  of  instruction  which  embraces 
such  particulars  ? 

The  successive  mornings  of  another  week  are  occu- 
pied with  "  Motives  in  Life"  as  a  general  theme.  See 
what  wealth  of  instruction  is  prepared  for  the  young 
men  when  the  first  morning  embraces  this, — 

Monday — Pozver  of  Motive  : 

1.  Life  must  have  its  motive  in  order  to  be  tolerable. 

2.  Still  more  in  order  to  be  significant. 

3.  A  ruling  motive  gives  its  character  to  the  life. 

4.  When  ruling  motive  is  good,  it  gives  even  a  com- 
mon life  power. 

All  this  for  Monday  morning.  Then  for  the  other 
five  mornings  of  that  week  the  various  conceivable 
ruling  motives  of  life,  worthy  and  unworthy,  such  as 
"  Pleasure,"  "  Wealth,"  "  Personal  Power,"  "  Love," 
and  "  God's  Glory,"  are  compared  and  discussed 
throughout  the  week. 

Another  week  was  occupied,  morning  by  morning, 
with  the  '^Mystery  of  Godlinessy  (i  Peter  iii.  16.) 
And  the  general  theme  for  still  another  was  the 
"  Precious  things  of  Peter!' 

One  of  the  most  interesting  of  these  subjects,  and 


Mornins:  Lectures. 


99 


most  suggestive  of  the  comprehensiveness  and  value 
of  the  series,  was  this, — "  Action  of  Christianity  upon 
the  surfaces  of  our  individual  life :  " 

1,  This  action  may  be  from  without  only,  which 
would  produce  a  hollow  character. 

2.  It  should  be  from  within  outward.  Then  it  is 
character  striking  through, — the  external  is  repre- 
sentative of  the  internal.  It  is  the  bloom  and  fra- 
grance of  real  fruit  rather  than  paint  on  the  waxen 
counterfeit. 

The  importance  of  this  particular  series  of  medita- 
tions is  very  obvious,  inasmuch  as  it  would  reveal  to 
the  students  how,  as  ministers  and  as  men,  they  will 
be  judged,  and  will  have  to  be  judged,  by  appearances. 
What  they  appear  on  the  surface  will  represent  what 
they  are  at  heart.  Therefore  the  importance  of 
having  all  their  superficial  manners  and  habits  made 
pure  and  comely  and  pleasing  by  being  the  out- 
shining and  expression  of  pure  principles  and  good 
character  within, — "  Let  your  light  so  shine,"  etc. 

Still  another  week  is  occupied  with  "The  Minis- 
terial Office,"  with  such  topics,  from  morning  to 
morning,  as  "  The  Nature  of  the  Office,"  "  The  Dig- 
nity of  the  Office,"  and  so  on  till  Saturday. 

Out  of  this  last  week's  meditations  grew  the  ser- 
mon already  referred  to,  with  which  he  made  his  "  ten- 
strike,"  and  concerning  which  his  friend  Wilson  says, 


100  Zephaniah  Moore  Humphrey. 

"  No  riper  or  sweeter  discourse  have  I  ever  read  from 
any  one.  It  smells  like  the  clean  linen  which  has  been 
laid  away  in  lavender  by  the  old-fashioned  people,  or 
impresses  one  like  a  sweet  song  from  tlie  heavenly 
world,  about  which  there  is  no  discord." 

This  was  the  last  sermon  of  his  life.  It  is  well 
worthy  of  notice  how  it  grew  out  of  careful,  conscien- 
tious study,  each  several  topic  being  closely  consid- 
ered as  itself  a  subject  for  a  lecture ;  and,  moreover, 
how  it  grew  out  of  a  keen  discernment  of  the  actual 
"needs  of  his  hearers,  for  it  was  originally  given  on 
"  The  Ministerial  Office"  to  actual  candidates  /or 
that  office. 

No  wonder  his  most  intimate  associate  in  the 
faculty,  Rev.  Dr.  Morris,  should  say  of  him,  after  he 
was  gone,  "  With  great  care  and  conscientiousness 
he  took  up  his  particular  duties,  prosecuting  each  in- 
quiry diligently,  carefully  summing  up  the  results  of 
every  fresh  investigation,  increasing  steadily  both  in 
the  amount  of  his  instruction  and  in  his  capacity  to 
stimulate  and  enrich  the  minds  committed  to  his 
training." 

No  wonder  the  faculty  should  unite  in  saying,  "  In 
the  department  of  history,  he  caused  his  own  spirit 
to  give  unwonted  interest  to  the  facts  and  philosophy 
and  theology  he  brought  into  the  class-room. 

"  In  his  more  general  relations  with  us,  his  personal 


Private  Character. 


lOI 


power  was  a  constant  charm,  while  his  ready  faciHty 
and  wide  and  varied  knowledge  made  every  exercise 
in  which  he  took  part  to  be  attractive  and  useful. 

"  He  was  an  admirable  teacher,  and  a  true  and  cul- 
tured and  delightful  man.  We  are  much  indebted  to 
him.  We  are  thankful  that  he  lived  and  wrought 
with  us  so  long,  and  we  cherish  his  memory  with  a 
deep  and  abiding  conviction  that  few  men  who  are 
eulogized  after  their  death  were  so  worthy  of  the 
words  that  praise  them  as  was  he  who  had  won  so 
warm  a  place  in  our  .hearts." 


XVII. 

T  N  these  chapters  we  have  been  tracing  Mr.  Hum- 
-"-  phrey's  footsteps  as  those  of  a  public  man, 
preacher  and  pastor  and  professor. 

Yet  he  was  so  void  of  pretence  and  mere  seeming, 
what  he  did  was  so  directly  the  result  of  what  he  was, 
his  public  strength  was  so  manifestly  rooted  in  the 
excellences  of  his  private  character,  that  the  consider- 
ation of  his  professional  life  has  been  a  constant  dis- 
closure of  his  private  traits.  Indeed,  he  may  be  justly 
said  not  to  have  had  any  professional  life.  It  was  so 
absorbed  into  his  personal  life  that  he  really  did 
nothing  in  a  perfunctory  or  professional  way. 

In  like  manner,  if  we  should  proceed  to  notice  more 


I02 


ZepJianiali  Moore  HuinpJirey, 


closely  some  of  his  personal  characteristics,  which 
might  seem  to  pertain  only  to  his  private  life,  we  shall 
not  fail  to  perceive  again  that  they  are  among  the 
sources  of  his  public  strength  and  usefulness,  and  thus 
we  shall  still  be  indirectly  considering  him,  and  more 
fully  revealing  him  as  a  public  man. 

One  of  Mr.  Humphrey's  personal  characteristics, 
known  only  to  those  who  knew  him  privately,  was  a 
remarkable  capacity  for  affairs,  a  genius  for  prag- 
matics. 

Almost  any  kind  of  business  trust  or  superintend- 
ency  could  have  been  confided  to  his  judgment  and 
skill.  He  had  a  ready  acquaintance  with  the  pro- 
cesses and  details  of  the  useful  arts  and  a  talent  for 
mechanism,  so  that  he  would  have  quickly  learned  to 
manage  a  farm  or  a  factory,  or  to  perform  the  duties 
of  an  engineer  or  machinist,  or  to  plan  a  house,  either 
with  reference  to  the  tout  ensemble  of  its  architecture, 
or  to  the  arrangement  and  finishing  and  furnishing  of 
the  rooms,  or  to  the  minutest  details  of  practical  con- 
venience from  cellar  to  garret. 

He  had  an  instinctive  skill  in  the  use  of  tools,  so 
that  there  was  scarcely  anything  he  could  not  do  or 
make.  If  there  was  a  hitch  in  the  family  sewing- 
machine,  or  a  hidden  screw  loose  in  any  of  the  physi- 
cal domestic  machinery,  he  knew  how  to  find  it  and 
to  fix  it. 


Personal  C/uvactcristics  103 

Nothing;  of  a  practical  or  useful  nature  escaped  his 
observation  or  eluded  his  knowledge.  He  was  obser- 
vant of  bodily  ailments  and  their  remedies.  He  could, 
if  need  be,  select  a  dress  pattern  or  scarf  or  shawl  for 
his  wife  or  daughters  with  as  discriminating  a  judg- 
ment as  to  quality  and  economy,  and  as  nice  an  ad- 
justment to  their  several  requirements  and  tastes  as 
could  be  done  by  themselves.  He  was  skilful  in  the 
use  of  the  fishing-rod,  and  could  manufacture  his  own 
flies,  and  paddle  his  own  canoe  if  need  be,  whether 
literally  or  figuratively. 

This  characteristic  was  far  more  useful  to  him  in  his 
public  life  than  would  at  first  be  supposed,  because 
there  went  out  from  it  a  thousand  invisible  threads  of 
sympathy  between  him  and  all  the  various  classes  of 
his  people,  and  enabled  him  to  understand  them  and 
to  make  himself  understood  by  them  in  numberless 
little  touches  of  instruction  and  influence,  which  are 
especially  effective  because  they  are  so  delicate  and 
penetrating. 

He  had  an  excellent  telescope,  and  spent  many  an 
evening  and  night  hour  in  observing  the  heavenly 
bodies  and  showing  them  to  others. 

He  also  made  himself  the  owner  of  a  superior 
microscope,  and  became  expert  in  the  use  of  it.  In 
his  short  rambles  southward  at  Chicago,  in  the  direc- 
tion of  Hyde  Park,  he  was  able,  without  the  use  of 


I04  ZcpliaiiiaJi  Moore  Huviphrcy. 

the  latter  instrument,  to  find  marshy  places,  and  he 
would  take  little  vials  with  him,  and  in  them  would 
bring  home  concealed  worlds  o?  life  and  beauty,  which 
he  would  cause  his  microscope  to  reveal  to  himself 
and  others. 

And  all  this,  of  course,  from  above  and  from  be- 
neath, was  accumulated  capital  for  him  with  which  to 
understand  and  illustrate  truth  concerning  Him  who 
is  at  once  the  God  of  nature  and  of  grace.  His 
telescope  declared  the  glory  of  God,  and  his  micro- 
scope revealed  Him  who  numbers  the  very  hairs  of 
our  heads. 

XVIII. 

SOME  allusion  has  been  made  to  Mr.  Humphrey's 
sprightliness  and  humor.  They  were  exuberant 
in  him,  and  made  his  life  from  boyhood  through  a 
bright  and  sunny  life.  They  made  him  invariably 
one  of  the  most  genial  and  agreeable  and  entertaining 
of  companions. 

But  his  sprightliness  and  humor,  exuberant  as  they 
were,  never  led  to  anybody's  saying  or  feeling  that  he 
was  frivolous.  The  bright  bubbles  of  his  fun  were 
not  blown  from  empty  tubes,  but  they  floated  upon 
the  surface  of  an  habitual  thoughtfulness.  His  jokes 
were  sharp  without  being  cutting,  pointed  but  never 
with  a  sting  ;  they  were  genuine  "  pleasantries,"  and 


Witticisms.  105 

a  flavor  of  benevolence  was  usually  manifest  in  them. 
It  was  always  a  ''good  humor"  that  flowed  from  him. 

The  quickness  of  his  intellect  was  constantly  re- 
vealing itself  by  the  promptness  of  his  witticisms. 

At  one  time,  when  he  visited  his  nephew's  home  at 
Chicago  after  months  of  separation,  a  patent  meat- 
chopper had  been  introduced  into  the  house  which 
made  noise  enough  for  a  patent  reaper.  It  happened 
that,  just  as  Mr.  Humphrey  had  entered  the  house, 
almost  before  the  mutual  salutations  were  exchanged, 
the  machine  started  up  in  the  kitchen,  and  the  noise 
was  startlingly  noticeable.  "  Music,  you  perceive," 
said  the  nephew.  "  Yes,  Chopin,"  was  the  instant 
reply. 

On  a  week's  trouting  expedition  on  the  Beaver 
Kill,  we  were  riding,  a  dozen  of  us,  including  five  or 
six  ministers,  toward  our  wilderness  camping-ground 
in  two  large  open  wagons.  In  the  forward  wagon, 
where  Mr.  Humphrey  was,  a  lively  discussion  had 
been  in  progress  for  an  hour  or  two  as  they  rode. 
Some  one  of  us,  who  were  in  the  rear  wagon,  became 
suspicious  that  a  pot  of  angle-worms,  which  would  be 
very  needful  all  the  week  for  those  not  expert  in  the 
use  of  the  fly,  had  been  left  behind.  So  we  hurried 
up  our  horses  till  we  overtook  the  forward  wagon 
and  hailed  our  comrades  in  it,  and  as  soon  as  they 
stopped,  so  that   they  could  hear  us,  we  called  out. 


Io6  ZcpJianiali  Moore  Hujnphrey. 

"  Are  the  worms  in  your  wagon  ?"  Instantly  Mr. 
Humphrey  rose  from  his  seat  and  cried,  "  We  have 
debate  here  all  the  way  :  I  am  not  sure  about  the 
worms."  However,  the  worms  were  found,  and  the 
party  and  debate  went  on. 

A  lady,  who  was  a  relative  of  Mr.  Humphrey,  was 
greatly  annoyed  by  the  stupidities  or  worse  of  one 
of  her  servants,  and  the  question,  asked  in  Mr.  Humph- 
rey's presence,  "What  shall  I  do  with  this  J?7/'(^/.<^" 
brought  the  instant  reply,  "Punch  her!" 

A  volume  of  sparkling  fragments  of  humor  might 
be  collected  from  his  racy  letters  to  his  familiar 
friends. 

The  above-mentioned  nephew  writes  him  a  humor- 
ous account  of  an  experience  he  had,  together  with  a 
camping  party  of  gentlemen  and  ladies  ;  the  gentle- 
men occupying  one  tent  and  the  ladies  another.  A 
storm  of  rain  and  wind  came  upon  them  at  night,  and 
they  were  obliged  to  turn  into  wet  beds,  and  the  gusts 
of  wind  and  rain  would  not  permit  them  to  lie  quietly 
even  in  them. 

Mr.  Humphrey  says,  in  reply,  "Your  letter  is 
justly  chargeable  with  having  disturbed  the  gravity 
of  this  household.  What  a  drenching  you  must  have 
had  !  What  a  chance  for  conundrums  in  your  moist 
experience  !  For  example,  take  this,  '  Caesar,  which 
am  de  wust  time  for'  a  gentleman  to  retire  ?   Gib  it  up  ? 


Humorous  Extracts.  107 

Well,  when  he  retires  in  disgust."  Or  this,  '  When 
is  a  man  most  unwilling  to  be  disturbed  ?  Answer, 
When  he  is  intent.'  Or  this,  for  No.  3,  '  Why  ought 
women  to  vote  ?  Answer,  Because  they  can  manage 
their  own  share  of  a  canvass  in  the  stormiest  times.'  " 

A  friend,  who  was  very  fond  of  the  family  and 
much  beloved  by  them  all,  had  sent  a  box  of  Christ- 
mas gifts,  containing  a  picture  of  Japanese  life  and  a 
go-bang  board,  and  including  among  other  things  two 
or  three  hundred  shells  or  cartridges  for  Mr.  Humph- 
rey's breech-loader.  Mr.  Humphrey  acknowledges 
the  receipt  of  the  gifts  in  a  bright  letter,  of  the  con- 
tents of  which  the  following  are  samples  : 

"  We  are  more  deeply  in  sympathy  than  ever  with 
the  heathen  of  Japan,  if  the  representative  you  have 
sent  is  clad  with  the  ordinary  robes  of  the  country. 
It  is  shocking  to  contemplate  the  condition  of  a 
people  who  have  nothing  at  all  next  their  skins  but 
such  coats  as  they  happen  to  have  on.  Civilization 
in  its  rudest  forms  demands  at  least  a  flannel  under- 
garment. Zephine  has  just  learned  that  the  earth  is 
round,  and  her  anxiety  now  is,  whenever  she  wakes 
or  is  going  to  sleep,  to  know  what  they  are  doing  in 
China.  We  shall  now  be  able  to  show  her  Jioiv  they 
do  in  Japan,  and  %vhat  they  do  without. 

"  Bessie  is  delighted  with  the  go-bang.  Lottie  is 
the  only  one  of  the  daughters  who,  as  to  her  hair,  has 


io8  Zephaniah  Moore  Hmnplircy. 

gone  bang  already.  I  hope  to  so  confine  Bessie's 
attention  to  the  game  you  have  sent  her  that  she 
will  go  bang  only  on  the  board.  I  shall  go  bang 
with  my  gun  till  the  three  or  four  hundred  shells  are 
exhausted." 

At  the  golden  wedding  of  the  aged  father  and 
mother  at  Pittsfield  in  1858,  when  all  the  children 
were  assembled,  and  some  informal  speeches  were 
made  by  the  sons,  the  older  brothers,  Edward  and 
James,  were  disposed  playfully  to  contrast  the  sub- 
stantial plainness  and  ruggedness  of  the  manner  in 
which  tlicy  had  been  reared  in  tlich-  childhood  with 
the  more  elegant  and  indulgent  and,  as  they  alleged, 
effeminate  manner  in  which  the  younger  children  had 
been  reared,  and  the  contrast  was  typified  in  the  fact 
that  the  older  were  rocked  in  a  "  bread-trough"  cradle, 
and  the  younger  in  a  mahogany  cradle.  When  Zepha- 
niah's  chance  came  to  reply  on  behalf  of  the  younger 
members  of  the  family,  he  gracefully  accepted  the 
situation,  with  the  remark  that  the  "  mahogany  cradle 
had  a  greater  durability,  as  well  as  a  higher  polish, 
than  the  '  bread-trough  cradle.'  " 

Mr.  Humphrey's  graceful  skill  in  the  way  of  pleas- 
ant and  significant  contrivances  for  special  occasions 
was  beautifully  manifested  at  this  golden  wedding. 

His  gift  to  the  father  (nearly  eighty  years  old)  was 
a    gold-headed    cane    with     the    inscription,    "  Hodie 


Happy  Devices.  109 

baciilum,  eras  corona''  {"  To-day  a  staff,  to-morrow  a 
crown"). 

His  gift  to  the  mother,  at  the  same  time,  was  a 
brooch  or  breastpin  of  hair-work.  The  body  of 
the  brooch  was  a  vine,  made  of  the  blended  hair 
of  the  father  and  mother,  and  gracefully  tied  into 
a  knot  with  several  bows.  The  ends  of  the  vine 
were  finished  with  plates  of  gold,  inscribed  with  the 
initials  of  the  names  of  the  parents.  On  this  vine 
were  scattered  ten  grapes,  each  made  of  the  hair  of 
one  of  the  children,  and  each  grape  tipped  with  gold, 
on  which  was  engraved  the  initial  of  the  name  of  the 
child. 

Kindred  to  this  was  a  bright  and  sweet  way  he  had 
of  designating  persons  and  places,  as  when  he  called 
his  beautiful  study  at  Cincinnati  his  "  den"  with  an 
"  E"  before  it. 

At  one  time,  at  Chicago,  he  awakened  the  keen 
curiosity  of  all  his  children  by  telling  them  in  the 
morning  that  they  should  have  a  whole  cow  for  din- 
ner. When  they  came  to  the  dinner-table,  with  their 
expectations  as  eager  as  their  appetites,  the  secret  was 
found  to  be  that  some  pats  of  butter  had  been  ob- 
tained, each  of  which  had  the  print  of  a  cow  on  it, 
and  care  was  taken  in  the  distribution  of  the  butter 
that  each  child  should  have  a  piece  of  the  cow,  till  all 
was  divided  among  them,  and  whole  dollars'  worth  of 


I  TO  ZephaniaJi  Moore  Hmnphrey. 

happiness  was  extracted  from  the  pat  by  the  watchful 
and  benevolent  humor  of  the  father. 

Thus  he  was  perpetually  carrying  sunshine  with 
him  into  his  own  house,  and  into  every  group  of 
friends  or  acquaintances  with  whom  he  met,  by  means 
of  these  pleasantries,  paranomasias,  little  enigmas, 
which  bubbled  up  as  easily  from  the  fountain  of  his 
humor  as  the  little  laughing  jets  of  water  do  from  the 
hillside  spring.  And  these  were  the  more  gratifying 
to  those  about  him  for  the  reason  that  they  were  never 
merely  frivolous.  They  generally  brought  with  them 
some  quickening  of  the  intellect  and  some  stimulation 
of  thought,  as  well  as  some  gratification  of  the  hu- 
morous susceptibilities.  Seldom  was  there  a  day  of 
his  life  in  which  some  of  these  genial  pleasantries  did 
not  flow  from  him  to  enliven  and  cheer  the  pathway 
of  those  who  were  journeying  by  his  side. 

Moreover,  these  jets  of  humor  were  ordinarily  ac- 
companied by  a  peculiarly  bright  and  pleasing  twinkle 
of  the  eye  and  relaxation  of  the  lips,  which  at  the 
same  time  were  indescribably  blended  with  a  deeper 
expression  of  sweet  seriousness  and  profound  good 
will,  showing  that  it  was  only  on  the  surface  that  he 
was  joking,  and  that  he  was  as  ready,  if  need  were,  to 
suffer  for  you  as  to  smile  for  you.  This  background 
of  seriousness  did  not  detract  at  all  from  the  fun,  but 
enhanced  it  by  the  contrast,  and  enriched  it  by  show- 


-■J 


Camping  in  the  Woods.  1 1 1 

ing  that  it  sparkled  up  from  a  deep  and  earnest  nature. 
So  real  was  this  connection  of  the  serious  with  the 
jovial  in  him,  that  some  persons  who  have  known 
him  for  years  have  the  settled  feeling  that  he  was  a 
sad  man,  and  that  he  carried  a  sad  and  careworn  face. 
It  is  difficult  to  account  for  such  a  misinterpretation 
of  a  man  who  was  looked  upon  by  those  most  inti- 
mate with  him,  notw^ithstanding  the  sober  earnestness 
of  his  life,  as  one  of  the  brightest  and  sunniest  of 
men,  and  as  wearing  an  habitually  serious  indeed,  but 
uniformly  happy  and  cheering  face. 

In  the  summer  vacations  we  were  repeatedly  in  the 
"  woods,"  camping  and  fishing.  In  each  instance 
there  were  young  men  with  us  who  were  previously 
strangers  to  Mr.  Humphrey, — different  young  men 
from  different  places  at  the  different  times.  He  was 
always  the  brightest  and  wittiest  person  in  the  party, 
and  the  centre  of  social  attraction,  though  very  quiet 
about  it,  and  always  refined  and  decorous,  and  the 
fact  could  never  be  lost  sight  of  that  he  was  a  Chris- 
tian gentleman  and  a  Christian  minister,  and  that  amid 
all  his  recreative  fishing  he  was,  first  and  last,  '' piscator 
homininn.'"  The  young  men  would  come  home,  some 
of  them  graduates  of  colleges  and  belonging  to  cul- 
tured families,  and  some  of  them  irreligious  young 
men,  would  come  home  and  tell  their  parents  that  it 
seemed  like  the  best  part  of  their  education  to  be  with 


112  Zephaniah  Moore  Humphrey. 

such  a  man  as  Mr.  Humphrey,  that  they  felt  them- 
selves lifted  up  by  it  to  a  higher  level  of  social 
feeling  and  moral  motive,  and  to  clearer  views  of  what 
life  ought  to  be. 

At  one  time  we  had  a  long  discussion,  at  evening 
in  camp,  on  the  subject  of  predestination  and  the 
practical  bearings  of  that  doctrine,  leaving  the  minds 
of  the  young  men  in  the  state  of  confusion  that 
is  usual  after  such  discussions.  But  the  time  of  our 
evening  prayers  came,  and  it  was  Mr.  Humphrey's 
turn  to  lead  in  the  service.  He  read  a  few  appropri- 
ate verses  of  Scripture,  and  explained  them  and  the 
subject  we  had  been  discussing  in  such  a  way  that  all 
were  satisfied,  and  some  of  those  young  men  remem- 
ber the  event  to  this  day,  with  the  feeling  that  if  they 
do  get  befogged  on  that  class  of  subjects,  they  will 
have  no  need  to  surrender  the  doctrines  which  they 
cannot  fully  understand. 


XIX. 

/^^NE  of  the  greatest  of  the  unconscious  achieve- 
^^  ments  of  Dr.  Humphrey's  life  was  this:  He 
demonstrated  that,  even  in  the  busy  and  driving 
West,  the  highest  culture  is  the  mightiest  forae  for 
moving  men  in  the  right  direction.     The  mild  might 


Pozver  of  Refinement  and  Culture.  113 

is  strongest,  the  gentlest  strength  is  the  conquering 
strength. 

It  is  commonly  thought  to  be  otherwise.  It  is 
claimed  that  the  more  rough  and  abrupt  methods  are 
the  more  effective  in  the  pulpit  and  in  the  parish, 
while  the  refined  and  polished  methods  are  feeble  and 
comparatively  fruitless. 

This  impression  is  assisted  by  the  fact  that  so  many 
persons  come  from  our  colleges  and  seminaries  into 
our  pulpits  and  parishes  with  a  superficial  culture  and 
an  affectation  of  refinement  and  learning,  the  shallow- 
ness of  which  is  soon  discovered,  and  then  the  con- 
clusion is  adopted  that  ministers  are  spoiled  for 
effectiveness  by  the  higher  degrees  of  culture  and 
refinement. 

But  here  comes  a  man  whose  delicacy  and  gentle- 
ness are  like  those  of  a  woman.  His  culture  and  re- 
finement are  wellnigh  supreme.  And  yet,  from  first 
to  last,  his  ministry  is  characterized  by  effectiveiiess, — 
prompt,  palpable,  permanent,  pervading  effectiveness. 
Why  ?  Because  his  fineness  is  not  a  mere  polish  on 
the  surface,  but  it  is  a  fineness  of  substance  all  the 
way  through,  like  that  of  the  Damascus  blade.  As 
Dr.  Johnson  says  in  the  funeral  address,  "  Mr.  Hum- 
phrey was  marked  by  great  fineness  of  structure 
everywhere :  he  was  a  fine  spirit  in  a  fine  body 
livinsf  a  fine  life." 


114  Zephaniah  Moore  Hinnphrey. 

It  is  not  a  refinement  and  delicacy  of  manner  merely 
but  of  the  entire  nature,  in  which  no  coarseness  is,  and 
•from  which,  therefore,  no  coarseness  can  come.  He 
has  a  cultured  speech  because  it  is  the  expression  of 
a  cultured  soul.  His  sermons  are  beautifully  written, 
but  it  is  the  thought  that  beautifies  the  style,  not  the 
style  that  beautifies  the  thought,  just  as  the  skilful 
cutting  of  a  diamond  reveals  the  beauties  of  the  gem, 
does  not  make  them.  If  the  diamond-cutter  attempts 
to  manufacture  beauties  on  the  surface  of  the  gem, 
he  is  sure  to  mar  what  he  seeks  to  mend.  It  is 
simply  needful  that  he  have  a  diamond  and  reveal  it, 
and  it  will  furnish  the  flashes  of  splendor.  So  it  was 
Mr.  Humphrey's  way  to  have  a  thought  and  reveal 
as  clearly  as  possible  its  various  phases,  and  the 
beauties  of  his  style  are  the  legitimate  result.  His 
felicitous  illustrations  are  not  for  ornamentation  but 
for  expression,  otherwise  they  would  not  be  felici- 
tous. The  beauty  as  well  as  the  power  are  intrinsi- 
cally in  the  thought,  and  only  in  the  style  as  it  ex- 
presses the  thought,  and  the  expression  is,  after  all, 
inferior  to  the  thought  by  as  much  as  language  is 
at  best  an  imperfect  instrument  of  the  mind  and  soul. 
Speech  can  only  approximate  the  completeness  of 
thinking  and  feeling  and  knowing.  And  so  one  of 
Mr.  Humphrey's  friends,  who  had  heard  him,  per- 
haps, a  thousand  times,  says,  "  In  his  preaching  the 


Strcn^^tli  out  of  Sweetness.  1 1 5 

expression  was  enough  below  the  strength  and  com- 
pleteness of  the  thought  to  make  the  real  power  an 
after-effect,  rather  than  the  felt  power  of  the  mo- 
ment." 

Another  of  his  friends,  a  finely-educated  man  of 
stalwart  intellect,  who  was  one  of  Mr.  Humphrey's 
strongest  men  and  strongest  admirers  at  Chicago,  ex- 
pressed the  fear  at  one  time  that  the  charming  beau- 
ties of  Dr.  Humphrey's  preaching  would  give  the 
impression  of  a  lack  of  strength  in  it.  The  fear  was 
groundless,  or  at  least,  if  such  an  impression  were 
given,  it  was  short-lived,  and  was  sure  in  due  time  to 
correct  itself  The  strength  of  his  thought,  of  which 
the  beauties  of  his  style  were  the  bright  epiphany, 
was  sure  to  make  itself  felt  in  its  time. 

So  we  find  that  while  "  beauty  of  spirit,"  "loveliness 
of  character,"  "  refined  sensibilities,"  "  gentleness," 
"  urbanity,"  "  courtesy,"  "  sweetness,"  "  elegance," 
etc.,  are  the  expressions  by  which  Mr.  Humphrey  was 
characterized  by  persons  fresh  from  his  presence  or 
just  out  from  under  the  sound  of  his  voice,  yet  after 
a  while,  when  his  preaching  and  influence  had  had 
time  to  produce  their  fuller  results,  "  strength," 
"vigor,"  "  quiet  power,"  "  great  effectiveness"  are  the 
terms  used  to  describe  the  man  and  the  character  of 
his  work. 

As  Dr.  Noyes  says,  "This  quiet,  cultured  Christian 


ii6  Zeplianiah  Moore  Hiiniplircy. 

man,  of  fine  fibre  and  exquisite  taste,  so  impregnated 
with  his  ideas  each  community  in  which  he  lived, 
West  or  East,  that  now,  after  from  five  to  thirty  years, 
they  are  living  ideas,  and  he  \sfclt  and  loved  more,  if 
possible,  than  when  he  was  an  every-day  presence." 

And  when  Dr.  Corwin,  of  Racine,  who  only  knew 
Mr.  Humphrey  through  his  ripened  reputation  in  that 
city  and  throughout  the  Northwest,  and  only  saw  him 
in  the  light  of  the  ultimate  judgment  of  those  who 
had  known  him  for  thirty  years,  w^hen  he  came  to 
preach  about  him,  in  his  old  church  and  before  his 
old  people,  he  did  not  take  for  his  text,  "  How  beau- 
tiful are  the  feet  of  him  that  bringeth  glad  tidings," 
but  his  text  was,  "A  strojig  man,  if  wise,  is  a  power  in- 
deed.'' And  in  the  course  of  his  sermon  he  testifies 
that  Mr.  Humphrey,  more  perhaps  than  any  other 
man,  has  left  the  impress  of  his  influence  upon  the 
life  of  that  city.  And  all  this  at  the  West,  where  a 
person's  value  is  measured  so  largely  by  the  degree 
of  his  force  and  effectiveness. 

Mr.  Whittier  was  right  when  he  said, — 

"  The  graven  flowers  that  wreath  the  sword 
Make  not  the  blade  less  strong." 

Dr.  Johnson  was  more  profoundly  right  when  he 
said,  not  that  Mr.  Humphrey's  sweetness  did  not 
detract  at  all  from  his  strength,  but  that  "  Mr.  Humph- 


Fulness  of  Development.  WJ 

rey's  sweetness  was  his  strength."  We  were  right 
when  we  said  above  that  the  mild  might  is  strongest, 
the  gentle  strength  is  the  conquering  strength.  It  is 
not  necessary  to  be  rough  and  rugged  in  order  to  be 
effective,  either  at  the  West  or  the  East ;  but,  in  the 
long  run,  the  highest  and  finest  culture  is  the 
strongest  force  for  good  in  any  community, — "the 
meek  shall  inherit  the  earth." 

And  if,  in  view  of  the  fit  failure  that  so  often  comes 
upon  a  superficial  culture,  a  mere  veneering  of  refine- 
ment, any  persons  are  tempted  to  assent  to  the  too 
common  notion  that  the  highest  mental  cultivation 
and  highest  religious  refinement  do  not  count  for 
much  in  the  way  of  strong  and  useful  success,  let 
them  take  notice  and  remember  that  Mr.  Humphrey's 
sweet  and  charming  character,  and  the  quiet  and  abid- 
ing effectiveness  of  his  gentle  and  winning  methods 
in  the  very  focal  cities  of  the  West,  have  answered 
that  cavil. 

XX. 

T  T  ARDLY  now  can  we  hesitate  as  to  the  ultimate 
■^  -■-      conviction  that  tJic  characterizing  thing  about 

Dr.  Humphrey  is  the  simple  but  grand  fulness   and 

universality  of  his  development. 

It  was  noticed  that  when  he  was  in  college,  already 

the  chosen  law  of  his   life  seemed  to  be  to  cultivate 


1 1 8  Zephaniah  Moore  Hiimplirey. 

every  excellence  and  grow  in  every  good  direction. 
According  to  this  law  he  lived  even  to  the  end,  as  we 
have  seen,  and  the  result  was  a  remarkable  fulness 
and  completeness  of  character  and  being.  It  might  be 
called  many-sidedness,  even  as  the  many-sidedness  of 
a  regular  polygon,  by  the  law  of  mathematical  infinity, 
approximates  perfect  sphericity,  and  a  sphere  is  but  a 
polygon  with  an  infinite  number  of  sides. 

From  the  fixed  centre  of  the  law  already  referred 
to,  and  contained  in  Phil.  iv.  8,  and  with  a  liberal 
diameter  of  natural  and  spiritual  endowments  and 
aspirations,  he  worked  out  to  his  periphery,  and  in  a 
remarkable  degree  rounded  his  life  in  every  direction. 
A  close  observation  does,  indeed,  reveal  some  en- 
largement of  the  equatorial,  i.e.,  the  warmer  or  more 
affectional  zones  of  his  nature,  and  a  corresponding 
repression  of  the  cooler  or  strictly  intellectual  zones. 
But  the  intellectual  axis  of  his  life  was  far-reaching 
and  firm,  and  the  fast-rolling  tropical  belts  of  his  affec- 
tional and  emotional  nature  obeyed  their  centripetal 
force,  and  were  never  carried  beyond  their  legitimate 
sphere. 

There  were  observable  also  on  the  surface  of  his 
life  ranges  of  happy  elevation,  gleaming  in  the  sun- 
light, when  some  unusual  inspiration  or  emergency 
lifted  his  thought  and  speech  above  the  common  level. 
But  between  these,  and  far  more  extensive,  were  the 


Versatility  of  CJiaractcr.  119 

broad  plains  of  patient  and  fruitful  industry,  though 
these  were  bordered  or  crossed  sometimes  by  the 
shadowy  depressions  of  physical  prostration  or  provi- 
dential bereavement  and  trouble.  But  all  these  served 
to  vary  rather  than  to  destroy  the  regularity  and 
roundness  of  his  life.  There  were  no  dark  chasms 
of  morbid  discouragement  or  melancholy.  His  life 
was  void  of  excesses  and  extremes.  For  so  large  a 
life  its  tenor  was  remarkably  even,  without  startling 
achievements  on  the  one  hand  or  failures  on  the  other. 

Indeed,  as  Dr.  Patterson  says,  the  chief  difficulty  in 
describing  him  results  from  the  absence  of  salient 
points.  He  was  so  equally  full  and  complete  in  every 
direction  that  he  stood  in  his  own  light,  like  the  parts 
of  a  great  cathedral,  one  part  hiding  another,  and  the 
vast  aggregate  belittling  the  particulars,  and  thus  be- 
littling itself,  and  producing  the  impression  that  it  is 
not  a  very  large  thing  after  all,  while  any  part,  meas- 
ured by  itself,  is  seen  to  be  a  part  of  something  great. 

He  was  student,  artist,  poet,  scientist,  naturalist, 
sportsman,  mechanic,  preacher,  pastor,  teacher,  coun- 
sellor, friend,  husband,  father,  citizen,  saint;  all  these, 
and  more,  blended  in  that  one  unassuming  man  ! 

Yes,  unassuming  he  was,  never  suspecting,  appar- 
ently, that  there  was  anything  of  greatness  in  him, 
still  with  sufficient  trust  in  God  and  confidence  in  his 
own  capabilities  to  accept  any  position  to  which  the 


I20  ZephaniaJi  Moore  Hitmphrey.  ■ 

church  called  him.  He  seemed  to  have  no  special 
adaptation  to  the  professorship  of  ecclesiastical  his- 
tory, and  yet  he  Avas  phenomenally  successful  in  it,  as 
he  would  have  been  in  either  of  the  other  departments, 
or  in  almost  any  professorship  in  any  of  our  colleges. 

He  did  not  aim  at  greatness,  or  think  of  it  appar- 
ently, but  he  aimed  to  make  the  most  and  best  of 
what  there  was  in  him  and  for  him.  He  seemed  to 
fashion  himself  as  Phidias  did  the  marble  statues  with 
wliich  he  adorned  the  pediments  of  the  Parthenon, 
He  finished  the  statues  carefully  and  finely  on  every 
side,  and  being  asked  why  he  was  so  careful  with 
every  part  of  his  marbles,  when  they  would  be  placed 
so  high  up  on  the  temple's  front  that  the  fine  finish 
could  not  be  seen,  and  portions  of  them  would  be 
entirely  and  forever  out  of  sight,  he  is  said  to  have 
replied,  "  The  gods  will  see  them  on  every  side,  and 
they  must  be  satisfied." 

So  Mr.  Humphrey  fashioned  himself  not  to  be  seen 
of  men,  but  for  the  observation  of  Him  who,  as  the 
Psalmist  says,  "  is  acquainted  with  all  our  ways,"  from 
whom  our  "  substance"  is  not  hidden,  and  who  "  un- 
derstandeth  our  thought  afar  off."  He  "  lived  as 
seeing  Him  who  is  invisible." 

And  as  those  statues  of  Phidias,  after  standing  for 
ages  in  their  high  places,  were  taken  down  and  placed 
in  the  museums  of  Europe,  so  that  millions  of  men 


The  Beauty  of  the  Lord  our  God.  1 2 1 

have  walked  about  them  and  viewed  them  on  every 
side  and  in  every  h'ght,  so  as  to  mark  the  excellences 
which  were  designed  only  for  the  eyes  of  the  gods, 
so  we  are  permitted  to  contemplate  and  admire  the 
fulness  of  beauty  and  excellence  which  the  grace  and 
goodness  of  God  have  enabled  one  of  his  servants  to 
combine  and  embody  in  a  character  that  was  moulded 
and  shaped  not  for  the  human  but  for  the  divine  eye. 
And  as  with  the  statues  that  are  finished  with  the 
most  delicate  and  loving  touches  of  the  master-artist, 
so  here  in  this  character  the  more  closely  we  scruti- 
nize it  the  more  we  find  of  unexpected  degrees  of 
sweetness  and  beauty  and  surprising  manifestations 
of  energy  and  power. 

It  was  a  favorite  prayer  of  Dr.  Humphrey,  so  much 
so  that  he  made  it  part  of  a  formula  which  was  used 
every  morning  in  connection  with  the  family  worship 
at  his  house  in  Chicago,  "  Search  me,  O  God,  and 
knozv  my  heart ;  try  me  aud  knoiu  my  ivays,  and  see  if 
there  be  any  ivicked  ivay  in  me,  and  lead  me  in  the  tvay 
everlasting.'' 

And  if  we  may  reasonably  presume  that  he  had 
much  in  his  heart,  if  not  on  his  lips,  that  other  prayer 
of  the  Psalmist,  "  Let  the  beauty  of  the  Lord  our  God 
be  upon  us,  and  establish  thou  the  ivork  of  our  hands 
upon  us,  yea,  the  zvork  of  our  1  lands  establish  thou  it,'' 
we  are  sure  that  both  parts  of  the  prayer  were  largely 


122  ZepJianiaJi  Moore  Hinnplircy. 

answered  to  him  during  his  lifetime,  and  that  both 
parts  will  be  more  and  more  fulfilled  as  he  rests  from 
his  labors,  and  his  works  do  follow  him.  And  if  we 
could  hear  him  as  he  sings  the  "  new  song"  among 
the  choirs  of  the  redeemed,  we  are  sure  that  not  one 
of  the  ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand  voices  would 
be  more  distinctly  saying,  "  Not  unto  us,  0  Lord,  not 
unto  us,  Init  unto  thy  name  give  glory,  for  thy  mercy  and 
thy  truth's  sake!' 

And  then,  when  our  raptured  thoughts  return  to 
consider  what  he  was  when  he  was  with  us,  and  why 
he  was  so  much  to  us,  we  get  less  satisfaction  in  the 
analysis  of  his  life  and  character  than  in  the  subse- 
quent synthesis,  and  thus 

"  We  most  of  all  remember  the  divine 
Something  that  shone  in  him  and  made  us  see 
The  archetypal  man,  and  what  might  be 
The  amplitude  of  nature's  first  design." 

XXI. 

IT  was  in  the  midst  of  a  seminary  term,  with  his 
harness  on  and  every  thong  drawn  taut  in  the 
quiet  joy  of  vigorous  work,  that  Mr.  Humphrey  was 
attacked  by  a  violent  cold,  which  developed  into 
pneumonia,  and  the  lecture-room  was  exchanged  for 
the  couch,  and  soon  the  couch  for  the  bed,  and  it  be- 


Last  Sickness.  123 

came  more  and  more  doubtful,  day  by  day,  and  thus 
by  degrees  certain,  that  from  that  bed  there  would  be 
no  return  to  the  couch  and  the  lecture-room. 

Mrs.  Humphrey  could  not  hide  from  herself  the 
danger,  and  messages  were  sent  to  those  of  nearest 
kin.  Alarmed  love  brought  them  speedily  to  his 
side, — the  married  daughter,  Lottie,  from  her  home 
in  Missouri  ;  the  only  brother,  Edward,  from  Louis- 
ville ;  the  only  sister,  Sarah,  from  Brooklyn ;  two 
beloved  nephews,  sons  of  his  brother  John,  from  Chi- 
cago and  New  York,  and  a  very  dear  "  cousin"  by 
affectionate  adoption,  Mrs.  Hamill,  from  Chicago. 
These,  together  with  the  wife  and  the  two  younger 
daughters,  were  permitted  to  watch  and  weep  to- 
gether for  two  or  three  days  and  nights,  and  minister 
as  they  could  to  the  dear  man's  body  and  spirit,  as 
the  outward  man  was  perishing  and  the  inward  man 
was  being  renewed  day  by  day  and  hour  by  hour. 

In  his  dying  he  was,  as  in  his  living,  humble,  pa- 
tient, sweet-spirited,  calm  in  his  hope,  happy  in  his 
love,  strong  in  his  convictions,  and  energetic  in  his 
faith,  with  no  fears  and  no  ecstasies,  no  wailings  be- 
cause he  must  die  from  the  earth,  and  no  raptures  in 
view  of  entering  heaven.  Such  raptures  he  looked 
forward  to,  but  their  time  was  not  yet. 

Some  of  us  remember  that  the  death-bed  expe- 
riences  of  Dr.   Humphrey's  father,  and    also   of  his 


124  ZeplianiaJi  Moare  HitnipJirey. 

brother  John,  were  Hke  his  own.  Their  lives  had 
been  so  saintly  that  it  seemed  as  though  their  deaths 
would  surely  be  ecstatic.  But  it  was  not  so.  Some 
very  exalted  and  rapturous  thoughts  of  God's  holi- 
ness and  glory  they  had,  but  no  raptures  concerning 
themselves.  This  was  from  no  failure  or  flaw  in  their 
Christian  hope,  but  from  an  absorbing  interest  in 
their  present  relations  to  divine  truth  and  the  divine 
glory. 

Even  so  was  it  with  our  Mr.  Humphrey  in  the  last 
days  of  his  life.  He  was  occupied  with  a  solemn  ad- 
justment of  himself  to  this  unexpected  transition, 
with  an  intelligent  gathering  into  his  consciousness 
of  the  divine  truth  provided  for  him  in  this  emer- 
gency, with  a  trustful  commitment  of  his  family,  his 
pupils,  his  work,  and  his  own  spirit  to  the  care  and 
grace  of  God.  He  was  less  thoughtful  of  his  own 
future  bliss  than  that  Christ  should  be  honored,  and 
those  about  him  comforted  and  strengthened  by  a 
clear  recognition  of  those  vital  truths  by  which  he 
was  now  sustained.  In  calm  and  full  conversations 
with  his  wife,  their  divinely-appointed  separation  for 
the  present  was  painfully  but  tranquilly  considered, 
and  everything  understood,  dear  memories  recalled, 
and  clear  arrangements  made  with  reference  to  things 
temporal  and  things  eternal. 

In  the  presence  of  the  other  friends  who  sat  for 


Falling  Asleep.  125 

many  hours,  first  and  last,  about  his  bed,  much  of  the 
time  was  spent  in  reading  and  repeating  passages 
of  Scripture,  sometimes  as  prompted  by  their  memo- 
ries, and  sometimes  as  the  passages  were  selected 
and  suggested  by  himself,  as  when  he  asked  for  the 
"  precious  things  of  Peter,"  and  his  eye  would 
brighten  and  his  pale  countenance  beam  as  he  lis- 
tened and  recognized  the  "  precious  faith,"  and  the 
"precious  /r/rt/ of  faith,"  and  the  "precious  promises," 
and  the  "precious  blood,"  and,  comprehending  all, 
the  precious  Christ  himself,  "  to  you  that  believe  He 
is  precious." 

In  such  communings  with  the  heavenly  world  were 
they  all  engaged  on  that  Sabbath  evening,  November 
13,  1 88 1,  when  he  ceased  to  breathe,  and  the  daughter, 
stepping  to  her  mother,  who  sat  with  closed  eyes  and 
had  not  witnessed  the  expiring  breath,  and  putting 
her  arm  around  her  neck,  calmly  said,  "  Now,  dear 
mother,  you  have  nothing  more  in  this  world  to 
dread."  So  it  is  :  the  greater  and  dearer  the  treasure 
the  greater  the  loss  when  it  is  taken  away  ;  the  past 
seems  all  gone  and  void.  But  no !  How  filled  it  is 
with  blessed  and  majestic  memories !  These  cannot 
be  taken  from  us.  Nothing  now  can  mar  the  more 
than  golden  worth  of  these  treasures  of  memory. 

The  language  of  our  mourning  and  remonstrating 
hearts  is, — 


126  Zephaniali  Moore  Humphrey. 

"  Oh,  what  hadst  thou  to  do  with  cruel  Death, 
Thou  who  wast  so  full  of  life,  or  Death  with  thee, 
That  thou  shouldst  die  before  thou  hadst  grown  old  !" 

But  the  answer  of  our  faith  is,  "  Very  little  hadst 
thou  to  do  with  Death,  or  Death  with  thee."  "  Ab- 
sent/rout  tJie  body,  present  xvitJi  the  Lord."  "  In  a  mo- 
ment, in  the  tzvinkling  of  an  eye,"  is  the  transition 
made,  and  "  mortality  is  sivalloived  up  of  life."  "  0 
Death,  where  is  thy  sting  ?  The  sting  of  death  is  sin, 
the  strength  of  sin  is  the  law.  Thanks  be  to  God,  zvlio 
giyeth  us  the  victory  through  our  Lord  jfesus  Christ  f 

"  O  Death  !  how  sweet  the  thought 
That  this  world's  strife  is  ended, 
That  all  we  feared  and  all  we  sought 
In  one  deep  sleep  are  blended. 

"  O  Death  !  how  dear  the  hope 

That  through  the  thickest  shade, 
Beyond  the  steep  and  senseless  slope. 
Our  treasured  store  is  laid. 

"The  loved,  the  mourned,  the  honored  dead 
That  lonely  path  have  trod, 
And  that  same  path  we  too  must  tread 
To  be  with  them  and  God. 

"O  Life  !  thou  too  art  sweet ; 

Thou  breathest  the  fragrant  breath 
Of  those  whom  even  the  hope  to  meet 
Can  cheer  the  gate  of  death. 


Life  and  Death.  1 27 

"  Life  is  the  scene  their  presence  lighted ; 
Its  every  hour  and  place 
Is  with  dear  thought  of  them  united, 
Irradiate  with  their  grace. 

"  There  lie  the  duties,  small  and  great, 
Which  we  from  them  inherit ; 
There  spring  the  aims  that  lead  us  straight 
To  their  celestial  spirit. 

"All  glorious  things,  or  seen  or  heard, 
For  love  or  justice  done. 
The  helpful  deeds,  the  ennobling  word, 
By  this  poor  life  are  won. 

"0  Life  and  Death,  like  Day  and  Night, 
Your  guardian  task  combine ; 
Pillar  of  darkness  and  of  light. 
Lead  through  earth's  gloom  till  l^right 
Heaven's  dawn  shall  shine  !" 


SERMONS. 


129 


THE  CENTRALITY  OF  THE  CROSS. 

"That  in  the  dispensation  of  the  fulness  of  limes  He  might  gather 
together  in  one  all  things  in  Christ,  both  which  are  in  heaven  and 
which  are  on  earth,  even  in  Him." — Ephestans  i.  io. 

''  I  ^HIS  passage  is  generally  understood  as  declara- 
-■■  tive  of  the  purpose  of  God  to  make  heaven 
and  earth  tributary  to  Christ.  Some  suppose  it  to 
refer  only  to  the  redemptive  work  of  the  Saviour,  as 
gathering  about  himself  all  who  may  be  drawn  to 
Him  on  earth  and  introduced  by  Him  into  heaven. 
Some,  dissatisfied  with  this  narrow  view,  suppose  it 
to  refer  to  the  general  reign  of  Christ  to  be  established 
over  all  earthly  and  heavenly  intelligences,  angels 
and  men,  so  that  Christ  shall  be  the  centre  of  one 
vast  kingdom,  all  of  whose  honors  and  glories  are 
gathered  in  Him.  Others,  taking  a  yet  broader  view, 
interpret  the  passage  as  indicating  that  to  the  Cross 
all  tilings,  as  well  as  all  beings,  are  to  be  tributary; 
that  the  crucifixion  is,  in  the  eternal  purpose  of  God, 
to  be  the  central  event  of  time  ;  the  Cross  is  to  be  the 
rallying-point  of  the  world,  the  focal  centre  towards 
which  all  the  interests  of  heaven  and  earth  are   to 

131 


132  Sermons. 

converge.  This  is  certainly  the  grander  and,  on  that 
account,  the  more  probable  view.  It  is  worthy  of 
notice  as  sustaining  it  that  in  specifying  what  will 
centre  in  Christ  the  neuter  is  used,  all  tilings,  as  if 
the  most  comprehensive  statement  were  designed. 
The  idea  presented  is  that  of  God  arranging  all  His 
purposes  in  the  far-distant  past,  so  as  to  bring  the 
utmost  honor  to  Christ ;  giving  all  events  a  Cross- 
ward  direction ;  controlling  all  human  energies,  so 
that  they  shall  add  to  the  triumphs  of  the  Cross,  while 
above  it  are  to  gather  the  rejoicing  hosts  of  heaven, 
"  Saying,  with  a  loud  voice,  '  Worthy  is  the  Lamb 
that  was  slain  to  receive  power  and  riches,  and  wisdom 
and  strength,  and  honor  and  glory  and  blessing!'  " 

This  idea  is  unquestionably  sanctioned  by  other 
portions  of  the  Scriptures.  We  shall  therefore  adopt 
this  meaning,  and  seek  to  unfold  it  in  presenting  for 
your  contemplation  The  Centrality  of  the  Cross. 

We  will  therefore  show,  first,  how  the  Cross  is 
central  to  hiiinan  Jiistory. 

This  were  not  difficult  were  we  to  confine  our  ob- 
servation to  the  earlier  historical  records.  The  Old 
Testament  is  manifestly  the  introduction  to  the  New. 
The  line  of  events  is  direct  from  the  murder  of  Abel 
to  the  crucifixion  of  Christ.  The  Old  dispensation 
prefigured  the  New.  Its  whole  ritual  declared  that 
without  the  sheddingf  of  blood  there  is  no  remission 


The   Centrality  of  tlie   Cross.  133 

of  sin.  Judaism  was  Christianity  in  the  bud.  The  Cross 
and  the  nails  were  in  the  heart  of  the  passion-liower 
before  it  had  opened.  Hence  it  seems  not  unnatural 
to  speak  of  the  Cross  as  central  to  the  history  of  the 
Jewish  nation.  But  when  we  look  at  uninspired  history 
we  find  but  few  pages  of  it  given  to  the  "  feeble  folk," 
whose  empire  at  the  best  spread  over  the  narrow  limits 
of  Palestine.  Even  the  sacred  records  speak  of  streams 
as  far  back  as  the  dispersion  from  the  foot  of  Babel  di- 
verging from  the  Jewish  current,  some  of  them  soon 
gaining  a  greater  breadth  and  volume  than  the  original, 
and  none  of  them  appearing  to  flow  towards  the  Cross. 
So  that  while  the  Jews  have  room  enough  in  Palestine, 
there  are  vast  heathen  empires  in  Europe,  in  Asia,  and 
in  Africa,  while  millions  obey  the  Incas  in  America, 
or  worship  the  sun  about  the  teocallis  in  Mexico. 

On  a  closer  inspection,  however,  we  see  that  the 
history  of  many  of  these  heathen  empires  is  closely 
related  to  the  Cross.  A  Romish  historian,  tracing  the 
fortunes  and  recording  the  battles  of  his  proud  gen- 
erals, might  have  smiled  were  Paul  to  have  assured 
him  that  all  these  contests  had  a  reference  to  the 
death  of  a  poor  Nazarene,  who  a  few  years  before 
had  been  crucified  for  sedition  in  a  remote  and  insisf- 
nificant  province.  Yet  it  was  by  the  spread  of  the 
Romish  Empire  that  the  world  was  made  ready  for 
the  feet  of  those  who  were  commanded  to  go   teach 


1 34  Sermons. 

all  nations.  And  so  far  as  the  history  of  the  subju- 
gated realms  formed  a  part  of  that  of  Rome,  so  far  it 
had  reference  to  the  Cross  of  Christ.  It  may  be  that 
the  lines  of  history  appear  to  bear  away  from  the 
Cross  in  most  of  the  earlier  ages  ;  but  when  we  follow 
them  patiently  they  are  found  at  length  to  converge, 
sometimes  by  the  most  unexpected  turns.  The  more 
careful  our  investigation  the  more  clearly  shall  we 
see  how  all  history  is  related  to  the  same  event. 
With  ray  present  light  I  may  not  see  what  the  con- 
struction of  the  Pyramids  had  to  do  with  it,  yet  I 
know  that  at  their  bases  the  sinews  of  the  Jewish 
nation  were  hardened.  I  may  not  know  what  place 
the  history  of  the  mound-builders  of  our  own  conti- 
nent, a  mysterious  and  forgotten  race,  had  in  the  his- 
tory of  Redemption ;  but  I  can  well  believe  that  it 
has  such  a  place.  We  know  that  already  all  history 
has  run  into  this  one  stream;  therefore  the  junction 
of  this  tributary  must  be  somewhere  in  the  unex- 
plored regions.  The  history  of  the  world  to-day  has 
become  that  of  Christianity.  Christian  nations  con- 
trol the  globe ;  Christian  light  touches  every  shore. 
The  Christian  student  understands  some  of  the 
darkest  pages  of  history  when  he  sees  how  Clive, 
washing  the  soil  of  India  with  blood,  or  the  slave- 
trader  cursing  the  shores  of  Africa  with  his  barra- 
coons,  prepares  the  way  for   the   gospel.     That   the 


Tlie  Centrality  of  the  Cross.  135 

Cross  may  be  central  to  human  history  it  is  not 
necessary  that  every  war  should  be  a  crusade,  or  that 
Christ  should  be  the  recognized  hero  of  every  histo- 
rian. It  is  only  essential  that  we  should  be  able  to 
find  in  all  human  events  some  preparation  for  or  some 
triumph  of  the  gospel. 

By  this  point,  thus  imperfectly  developed,  is  sug- 
gested a 

Second.  That  the  Cross  is  central  to  all  that  is  val- 
uable in  human  progress.  Science  and  art  have,  in 
general,  labored  more  diligently  in  the  service  of 
Satan  than  in  that  of  Christ;  but  by  as  much  as  their 
labors  have  aided  in  the  civilization  of  the  globe,  by 
as  much  as  they  have  furnished  facilities  for  the 
spread  of  the  gospel,  by  so  much  have  they  been 
made  tributary  to  the  Cross.  When  Tubal  Cain  be- 
gan to  work  in  iron  he  was  beginning  that  long  series 
of  experiments  by  which  we  have  at  last  the  railway, 
covering  with  its  network  the  continents,  and  the 
steamship,  ploughing  and  reploughing  the  wave. 
When  Jubal  first  contrived  the  simple  reed,  he  was 
insensibly  heralding  the  majestic  organ,  by  whose 
assistance  we  lift  the  sacred  strains  of  Old  Coronation. 
The  rude  altar  of  Abel  was  the  type  of  the  cathedral. 
The  shepherd's  distaff  was  the  precursor  of  the  looms, 
whose  flying  shuttles  afford  king's  clothing  to  the 
poor.     The  bow  of  the   warrior  was  a  herald  of  the 


136  Sermons. 

ponderous  engines  by  which  liberty  is  vindicated,  and 
behind  which  the  world  marches  on  towards  the  mil- 
lennial day,  when  sin  will  no  more  require  the  chastise- 
ment of  force,  and  when  God  shall  cease  to  make  the 
wrath  of  man  to  praise  Him. 

It  is  easy  to  see  how  every  real  advance  in  science 
and  art  may  be  made  to  minister  to  the  glory  of  the 
kingdom  of  Christ  in  the  earth.  The  diffusion  of  in- 
telligence, the  increased  facilities  for  education,  the 
accessories  of  social  refinement,  and  even  the  prog- 
ress of  physical  comfort  and  the  relief  of*  physical 
labor  may  add  glory  to  that  kingdom.  Whatever 
improves  us  as  men  should  improve  us  as  Christians, 
and  will  when  the  power  of  sin  is  broken.  There- 
fore, confining  ourselves  strictly  to  the  thought  that 
Christ's  kingdom  is  spiritual,  we  can  see  how  science 
and  art  shall  contribute  to  it  when  every  printing- 
press  and  railway  and  telegraph  is  subjugated  to  the 
cause  of  truth,  when  music  stimulates  no  longer  the 
unholy  passions,  and  when  the  pencil  borrows  its 
ideas,  if  not  its  colors,  from  heaven. 

But  some  anticipate  a  physical  millennium  as  confi- 
dently as  they  do  a  spiritual  one.  They  believe  that 
both  are  to  dawn  at  once,  and  that  one  is  to  embrace 
the  glory  of  the  other;  that,  in  the  march  of  science, 
disease  is  to  be  conquered  by  the  application  of  reme- 
dies, while  the  tendency  to  it  is  to  be  lessened   by 


TJic   Centrality  of  the   Cross.  137 

purity  of  life ;  that  labor  is  to  be  lightened  by  laying 
its  burdens  on  muscles  of  steel,  while  the  call  for 
labor  is  diminished  by  the  diminution  of  sin  ;  that 
the  enjoyments  of  both  sense  and  soul  are  to  be 
largely  increased  by  new  inventions  and  discoveries, 
while  the  suffering  which  comes  from  the  reactions 
of  sinful  pleasure  is  to  disappear  as  the  sinful  indul- 
gence ceases.  There  is  room  .for  such  a  belief  In- 
deed, we  can  hardly  avoid  cherishing  it.  But  if  this 
be  true,  then  every  present  advance  in  science  and  art 
is  a  preparation  for  the  millennium,  and  so  centres  in 
the  Cross.  It  does  not  conflict  with  this  view  that 
many,  the  most  of  these  advances,  are  directly  in 
the  interest  of  sin.  They  will  still  remain  as  the 
heritages  of  the  world  when  sin  has  been  driven  out. 
When  the  inventions  of  an  enemy  are  captured,  they 
may  be  used  against  the  enemy  as  they  were  once 
used  by  him,  and  though  Satan  zvere  to  suggest 
every  invention,  as  tradition  says  he  suggested  the 
art  of  printing,  the  invention  would  in  the  end  be 
turned  against  him,  and  then  made  to  enhance  the 
glory  of  the  conquering  Christ. 

Having  thus  touched  upon  some  of  the  more  out- 
ward signs  of  God's  purpose  to  make  all  things  centre 
in  the  Cross,  we  shall  not  fail  to  discover  traces  of 
the  same  purpose  when  we  examine  the  principles  by 
which  both  His  action  and  ours  are  to  be  resfulated. 


138  Sermons. 

Let  us  examine  the  principles  by  which  God's 
action  respecting  man  is  shaped.  So  doing  we  shall 
see — 

Thirdly.  How  the  Cross  is  central  to  God's  scheme 
for  the  government  of  mankind. 

In  one  of  the  suggestive  books  of  the  times  atten- 
tion has  been  called  to  two  great  classes  of  facts  in 
the  government  of  God  which  stand  in  seeming  con- 
troversy. On  the  one  hand  we  observe  arrangements 
made  with  the  most  scrupulous  care  for  the  preserva- 
tion of  order.  All  the  forces  of  nature  are  balanced 
and  controlled  so  as  to  work  with  evenness  and  regu- 
larity. The  seasons  come  and  go,  rain  follows  sun- 
shine and  sunshine  rain,  so  that  the  earth  is  neither 
parched  into  a  desert  nor  drowned  by  a  deluge; 
changes  occur,  but  they  are  mostly  like  the  revolu- 
tion of  a  wheel,  points  of  which  vanish  only  to  re- 
appear. Decay  'goes  on,  but  life  springs  out  of  de- 
cay. No  particles  of  matter  are  wasted  :  they  seem 
to  vanish  in  flame,  but  fire  only  distributes  them  ; 
they  seem  to  be  destroyed  in  food,  but  they  are 
found  in  the  blood,  and  when,  after  performing  their 
vital  office,  they  are  exhaled  through  the  skin,  they 
reappear  again  in  some  new  form  of  life.  The  mind 
works  by  law  as  well  as  the  body.  Everywhere  are 
nice  adjustments,  which  show  that  "  order  is  heaven's 
first  law." 


The  Centrality  of  the  Cross.  \  39 

On  the  other  hand  we  see  everywhere  marks  of 
disorder.  Tempests  and  earthquakes  break  the  re- 
pose of  nature ;  pestilence  shakes  its  deadly  wings 
over  healthful  countries  ;  floods  waste  the  fields,  and 
frost  cuts  oft  the  harvests ;  man,  too,  grows  lawless ; 
wars  rage ;  terrors  affright  the  peaceful  ;  hatred  over- 
powers good  will ;  passion  burns  both  the  breast  in 
which  it  rages  and  the  victim  on  whom  it  blazes. 

On  the  one  hand  we  notice  abundant  tokens  of  the 
most  lavish  kindness  on  the  part  of  God,  as  if,  with 
all  the  fondness  of  a  parent,  He  would  pour  the 
whole  wealth  of  His  love  upon  us;  yet,  on  the  other, 
we  cannot  but  feel  the  severity  of  some  of  His  exac- 
tions. Now,  in  observing  one  class  of  facts.  He  seems 
all  tenderness,  and  stoops  over  us  with  a  smile  and  a 
caress  ;  but,  when  turning  to  another,  He  appears  sud- 
denly to  have  assumed  a  frown  and  to  have  snatched 
up  a  scourge.  On  the  one  side  we  see  indications 
that  He  would  have  us  free  as  air, — He  gives  absolute 
liberty  to  the  will,  to  the  thoughts,  to  the  limbs ;  yet 
on  the  other,  our  movements  are  often  interfered 
with,  we  are  checked  and  hindered.  We  enter  a 
clear  path,  when,  lo  !  suddenly  a  wall.  I  act,  another 
counteracts.  I  sin,  and  the  penalty  comes,  as  if  from 
some  invisible  being  who  has  been  ever  watching  me. 

Again,  there  is  that  in  the  soul  of  man  which 
draws   it  towards   God.      There  are   aspirations  after 


140  Sermons. 

goodness,  longings  for  communion  with  the  Infinite, 
impulses  to  worship ;  yet  there  is  a  something  which 
keeps  the  soul  back  from  God.  On  your  birthday 
you  feel  ashamed  of  much  in  your  past  life,  and 
solemnly  resolve  that  you  will  hereafter  avoid  the 
follies  and  make  up  for  the  deficiencies  of  the  past ; 
but  on  exposure  to  temptation  you  find  yourself  al- 
most as  weak  as  ever.  On  some  quiet  Sabbath,  when 
the  still  air  and  the  sacred  associations  of  the  day 
combine  to  turn  your  thoughts  away  from  the  noisy 
world  towards  God,  your  heart  goes  out  in  longing 
for  a  heavenly  fellowship.  Your  impulse  is  to  cast 
yourself  upon  your  knees  before  God,  all  unaccus- 
tomed as  you  are  to  prayer;  but  when  you  come  to 
the  act  of  prostration  the  impulse  dies  away,  and  the 
haughty  knee  remains  unbent.  It  is  not  strange  that 
thinking  men  should  have  been  puzzled  by  these 
phenomena,  and  it  could  never  become  clear  to  the 
unassisted  mind  how  these  conflicting  facts  are  to  be 
reconciled.  It  would  seem  as  though  God  must  al- 
ways continue  to  hold  man  in  this  suspense  between 
good  and  evil ;  as  if  the  world  could  never  be  so  recon- 
ciled to  God  that  He  could  lay  aside  His  severity  and 
take  His  creatures  lovingly  to  His  heart.  But  a 
glance  at  the  Cross  relieves  us.  Here  the  whole 
difficulty  disappears.  The  Cross  stands,  if  I  may  so 
express    it,  at  the   zone  of   calms.      The   conflicting 


The  Centrality  of  the  Cross.  141 

currents  meet  over  it  and  blend,  as  the  winds  rushing 
from  either  pole  meet  near  the  equator  and  expire. 
It  is  by  means  of  the  Cross  that  God  becomes  morally 
able  to  overcome  the  disorder  with  which  sin  has  in- 
terrupted the  order  of  His  government,  to  lavish  His 
kindness  without  stint  upon  those  who  have  passed 
beyond  the  need  of  discipline,  to  introduce  mankind 
into  a  heavenly  sphere  where  he  can  have  freedom 
without  penalties  and  restraints,  and  to  overpower  the 
feeling  in  the  soul  of  man  which  holds  him  back  from 
God  and  makes  him  hate  the  being  whom  he  wishes 
to  love. 

It  should  be  noticed,  too;  that  in  the  midst  of  all 
this  apparent  contrariety  in  the  government  of  God 
there  is  a  constant  reference  to  the  Cross.  The  re- 
straints He  lays  upon  evil,  and  the  acts  by  which  He 
overrules  it,  are  in  part  designed  to  further  the  great 
object  for  which  the  atonement  was  made.  Good  is 
the  constant  result  of  what  may  seem  to  us  unpleasant 
and  evil.  Having  ordained  the  Cross  as  the  central 
point  in  His  government,  God's  object  is  to  gather  all 
around  it.  Therefore  it  is  that  He  frowns  as  well  as 
smiles,  and  cripples  us  in  the  very  moment  of  giving 
us  freedom,  and  chastens  us  with  trial  in  the  days  of 
prosperity.  Were  there  no  Saviour  it  might  be  more 
difficult  for  you  to  comprehend  why  you  should  be 
subjected  to  the  fire  by  a  loving  God ;  but  when  you 


142  Sermons. 

have  been  led  through  the  fire  to  the  Saviour,  and 
looking  back  see  that  there  was  no  other  approach 
for  you,  you  understand  it,  and  you  thank  God  that 
His  providences  respecting  you  have  been  such  as  to 
bring  you  to  a  neglected  Christ. 

Going  a  little  further  in  our  study  of  principles  we 
discover, — 

Fourthly.  That  the  Cross  is  central  to  the  scriptural 
circle  of  doctrinal  truth. 

It  may  be  admitted  that  some  points  in  this  circle 
may  be  studied  long  and  thoughtfully  without  refer- 
ence to  the  Cross.  The  attributes  of  God,  e.g.,  may  be 
contemplated  as  revealed  in  other  works  than  that  of 
redemption.  His  natural  attributes — wisdom,  power, 
omnipresence,  unchangeableness,  eternity — have  am- 
ple illustrations  in  that  which  may  be  daily  observed. 
There  is  enough  in  a  bit  of  chalk,  or  a  drop  of  vine- 
gar, or  in  a  little  dust  brushed  from  the  wing  of  a 
butterfly  to  convince  us  of  more  than  one  of  these. 
Had  Christ  never  appeared  we  might  yet  have  arrived 
at  a  belief  in  all  of  them,  together,  perhaps,  with  what 
are  called  His  moral  attributes,  such  as  love,  justice, 
mercy.  Yet  they  all  centre  upon  Christ,  for  in  their 
exercise  perpetual  reference  is  had  to  Him,  even  when 
they  are  called  forth  in  laying  the  foundations  of  the 
world,  or  in  decorating  that  globe  which  was  made  for 
Hiui.     Then,  too,  the   noblest   illustrations   of   those 


The   Cculrality  of  tJic  Cross.  143 

attributes  are  furnished  by  the  Cross,  What  but  an 
infinite  wisdom  could  have  ever  devised  the  plan  of 
redemption  ?  What  else  can  ever  secure  its  execu- 
tion ?  To  make  a  world  is  to  order  mechanical 
forces ;  to  renew  a  soul  is  to  control  a  will  whose 
freedom  must  not  be  disturbed  while  it  is  wholly  sub- 
dued. To  set  a  planet  in  its  orbit  is  a  matter  of  sim- 
ple adjustment;  to  bring  a  soul  into  allegiance  is  to 
calculate  what  man  would  call  uncertain  forces.  It  is 
to  lay  the  most  complicated  plans,  the  threads  of 
which  are  to  run  through  all  the  ages,  and  to  be  made 
firm  and  strong  where  all  seems  fortuitous.  You  can 
calculate  a  transit  of  Venus  centuries  before  the  time ; 
you  cannot  calculate  upon  the  will  of  a  man  to-mor- 
row. What  wisdom  is  necessary  to  arrange  for  the 
crucifixion  by  guilty  yet  instrumental  hands,  and 
then  to  secure  the  prevalence  of  truth  where  it  will 
be  hated  and  despised !  What  po'vcr  is  necessary  to 
effect  all  this!  Power  is  made  more  evident  in  deli- 
cate operations  than  in  ponderous  blows.  The  shock 
of  an  avalanche  is  not  to  me  so  significant  a  .symbol 
of  power  as  the  crystallization  of  one  of  the  snow- 
flakes  which  has  helped  to  form  the  avalanche,  when 
it  fell  white  and  still,  like  a  many-rayed  blossom  from 
the  trees  bearing  twelve  manner  of  fruits.  So  is  the 
renewal  of  a  soul  a  greater  evidence  of  power  than 
any    natural   symbol   of  it.     The    withholding   of  the 


144  Sermons. 

Father's  face  in  the  hour  of  crucifixion,  when  we 
should  have  supposed  it  were  impossible  to  veil  it, 
was  more  impressive  than  the  clouding  of  the  sun  or 
the  opening  of  the  graves. 

The  omnipresence  of  God  is  demonstrated  by  the 
work  of  redemption,  for  without  a  constant  presence 
in  all  parts  of  the  world  such  a  work  could  never  be 
completed, — there  are  no  zones  for  the  operations  of 
the  Spirit. 

So  of  the  hmmitability  of  God.  Do  you  not  see 
how  inflexible  He  is  to  His  purposes  when  He  will 
not  interfere  to  take  the  cup  from  the  reluctant  lips  in 
Gethsemane?  Who  is  changeless  if  not  He,  who, 
though  the  heavens  fall,  will  not  permit  one  jot  or 
tittle  of  His  law  to  fail  ? 

So,  too,  the  eternity  of  God  is  illustrated  by  the 
Cross,  as  we  see  how  far  His  purposes  concerning  it 
reach  every  way. 

But  if  the  natural  attributes  of  God  centre  in  the 
Cross,  much  more  do  His  moral  attributes.  The 
heavens  may  be  grand,  and  the  earth  full  of  wonders ; 
we  may  find  God  everywhere,  whether  we  ascend  or 
descend;  but  nowhere  shall  we  find  Him  so  just  yet 
so  loving,  so  great  yet  so  condescending,  as  at  the 
Cross.  A  thoughtful  man  could  find  rest  in  the  idea 
that  Providence  in  its  works  is  infinitely  minute  as 
well  as  awfully  vast.     "I  think,"  says  he,  "the  dis- 


The  Ceiitrality  of  the  Cross.  145 

coveries  of  the  telescope  would  have  been  dreadful 
but  for  the  microscope.  God's  throne  has  risen  above 
the  earth  inconceivably  high,  but  another  way  the 
divine  condescension  is  to  be  seen  reaching  unex- 
pectedly and  infinitely  low.  In  a  field,  or  on  the  side 
of  a  brook,  when  I  see  a  forget-me-not,  I  think,  '  He 
has  not  forgotten  even  thee !'  "  We  may  find  a  richer 
illustration  of  the  more  beautiful  attributes  of  God, 
and  feel  a  yet  more  comforting  assurance  that  God 
has  not  forgotten  even  us,  when  we  look  upon  an 
expiring  Saviour. 

Turning  now  to  what  are  called  distinctively  gospel 
doctrines,  we  find  them  all  grouped  about  that  of  the 
atonement,  fixed  in  it  as  by  radii  running  to  one 
centre.  Regeneration  is  but  the  accomplishment  of  a 
change  which  could  not  be  possible  without  the 
atonement.  Sanctification,  which  but  for  that  could 
never  have  been  begun,  could  never  have  been  car- 
ried out  but  for  a  Christ  in  whom  the  believer  lives, 
by  union  with  whom  he  bears  his  fruit.  Eternal  life 
could  have  been  offered  to  none  but  for  the  shedding 
of  the  blood  of  the  Lamb.  The  decree  of  election 
was  indissolubly  associated  with  the  decree  by  which 
the  safety  of  the  elect  was  provided  for.  The  perse- 
veraiice  of  saints  would  never  have  been  talked  of 
had  there  been  no  saints  to  persevere.     Paul  would 

never  have  preached  the  irsurrectioji   had   not   Christ 

10 


146  Sermons. 

become  the  first  fruits  of  them  that  sleep.  Repentance 
and  faith  both  have  a  direct  reference  to  the  work  of 
Christ  and  are  promoted  by  it.  Without  an  atone- 
ment the  idea  o(  Justification  would  never  have  oc- 
curred to  the  apostle  to  the  Gentiles,  who,  indeed, 
never  would  have  been  an  apostle.  Adoption  into  the 
family  of  the  redeemed  never  could  have  been  antici- 
pated had  there  been  no  elder  brother  to  redeem  us, 
and  to  teach  us  nozv  to  gather  about  the  Throne  and 
say,  "  Our  Father,  who  art  in  heaven."  Depravity  is 
a  solemn  fact  which  at  first  appears  to  stand  by  itself; 
true  notwithstanding  the  Cross,  yet  it  was  to  coun- 
teract it  that  the  Cross  was  planted.  Prayer,  love, 
obedience  are  duties  irrespective  of  Christ,  yet  it  is 
through  Him  that  prayer  is  made  effective,  and  that 
love  and  obedience  become  easy.  The  Cross,  as  it 
were,  gathers  all  truth  about  itself  If  one  ignorant 
of  the  atonement  should  ask  you  to  explain  it,  you 
could  not  shut  out  of  view  any  doctrine, — to  explain 
the  keystone  you  must  describe  the  arch  ;  you  must 
talk  of  the  planets  in  talking  of  the  sun. 

The  full  meaning  of  the  text  is  not  yet  exhausted. 
It  is  therein  declared  that  it  was  God's  purpose  to 
gather  in  one  all  things,  "  both  which  are  in  heaven 
and  which  are  in  earthy  We  are  therefore  to 
notice, — 

Fifthly.  That  the  Cross  is  central  to  the  united  in- 


TJie  Ccntrality  of  the   Cross.  147 

terests  of  heaven  and  earth.  The  idea  is  that  heaven 
and  earth  have  a  certain  relationship,  the  interests 
of  one  being-  in  a  manner  identical  with  those  of  the 
other,  and  it  is  by  the  Cross  that  those  interests  are 
cemented.  In  the  first  chapter  of  Colossians  the 
apostle  speaks  of  God  as  "  having  made  peace  through 
the  blood  of  the  Cross,  by  Him  to  reconcile  all  things 
to  Himself, — by  Him,  I  say,  whether  they  be  things 
in  earth  or  things  in  heaven," — that  is,  to  bring  earth 
and  heaven  into  harmony,  and  to  perfect  His  purposes 
concerning  them. 

In  this  whole  discourse  it  has  indirectly  appeared 
that  the  interests  and  the  hopes  of  this  world  are  cen- 
tred in  the  Cross.  For  these  many  thousand  years 
the  world  has  risen  on  the  scale  of  progress  just  in 
proportion  as  it  has  honored  God  and  His  dear  Son. 
For  these  many  thousand  years  every  swing  of  the 
pendulum  or  every  drop  of  the  clepsydra,  every 
movement  of  the  shadow  on  the  dial,  has  marked  the 
flight  of  a  soul  which  were  lost  but  for  Christ.  But 
for  the  Cross  there  were  no  substantial  relief  for  an 
accusing  conscience  or  a  burdened  heart ;  but  for 
that  life  were  a  curse  and  death  an  unmitigated  terror. 
But  now  we  come  to  the  thought  that  it  was  impor- 
tant for  the  angels  that  Christ  should  die.  Heaven 
and  earth,  saints  and  angels  were  never  meant  to  be 
kept  apart.      Similar  in    feeling,   dwelling    upon    the 


148  Sermons. 

same  subjectsof  thought,  possessed  of  the  same  purity 
and  holiness,  worshipping  the  same  God,  there  are  yet 
differences  between  them  which  must  conduce  in  a 
high  degree  to  the  pleasure  and  benefits  of  their  mu- 
tual companionship.  The  one  class  has  experienced 
sin,  the  other  only  beheld  its  ravages.  The  one  class 
has  reached  heaven  by  a  rough  and  sorrowful  road, 
the  other  has  always  dwelt  in  light  and  joy.  Angels 
are  spirits  disembodied ;  saints  have  had  physical 
experiences,  and  will  have  sensations  corresponding  to 
these  in  their  spiritual  bodies.  Angels  may  teach  the 
saints;  saints  may  teach  the  angels.  Both  may  gain, 
while  together,  new  views  of  God,  and  see  new  cause 
to  glory  in  the  Saviour.  This  is  enough  to  suggest 
that  heaven  without  saints  were  not  complete,  and  to 
show  how  it  was  that  God  gathered  all  things  in 
heaven,  as  well  as  on  earth,  into  one,  even  Christ. 
It  is  enough  to  show  that  there  was  something  more 
than  sympathy  with  the  lost,  and  adoration  of  the 
love  which  was  expending  itself  to  restore  them,  ex- 
pressed in  the  angelic  song  which  burst  from  the 
skies  with  the  light  of  Bethlehem's  star.  Something 
inore  than  this  enters  into  their  rejoicing  over  each 
sinner  who  repenteth.  Gladly  would  the  angels  have 
ministered  to  Christ  in  any  circumstances,  and  would 
have  deemed  themselves  honored  by  the  privilege ; 
but  they,  as  well  as  the  world,  were  to  be  benefitted 


The  Centrality  of  the   Cross.  149 

by  His  mission.  He  died  for  them  in  part,  if  not  to 
save  them.  Fondly  would  they  hover  about  our 
pathway,  out  of  mere  pity,  were  they  to  see  us  no 
more  after  death  should  snatch  us  from  their  guar- 
dianship ;  but  they  are  ministering  to  their  own  inter- 
ests while  ministering  to  the  heirs  of  salvation. 

The  theme  is  tempting  enough  to  excuse  a  further 
delay,  but  we  will  linger  upon  it  now  only  to  suggest 
a  few  of  the  thoughts  it  inspires,  the  first  of  which  is. 
How  grand  a  theme  for  study  is  presented  in  the 
Cross  of  Christ !  It  has  ever  been  a  favorite  subject 
of  contemplation  by  the  mystic  and  the  enthusiast, 
and  by  the  calmest  lover  of  Jesus  as  well.  But  we 
have  seen  that  the  intellect,  as  well  as  the  heart,  may 
be  exercised  to  the  utmost  upon  it.  Around  it  sweep 
the  ages,  and  he  who  would  understand  the  course 
of  history,  of  science,  and  of  art  must  sit  at  the  feet 
of  Jesus.  God's  government  is  explained  by  it,  and 
therefore  the  jurist  who  would  possess  himself  of  the 
principles  of  human  law  must  read  by  its  light.  Time 
and  eternity  are  joined  by  it.  The  Cross  may  be  seen 
through  the  dreamy  systems  of  the  Asiatic,  but  it 
furnishes  the  iron  for  Paul's  reasoning,  and  for  that 
of  some  of  the  greatest  thinkers  of  all  times.  Spir- 
itual discernment  is  more  than  a  vivid  conception  of 
Christ,  and  a  beautiful  vision  of  heaven.  It  is  also  a 
clear   view   of   principles    and   of    their -relations    to 


150  Sermons. 

Christ.  It  is  one  of  the  wonders  of  the  Cross  that  it 
meets  the  demands  of  every  cast  of  mind  and  of 
every  stage  of  discipline.  To  one  whose  range  of 
thought  in  connection  with  the  Cross  is  narrow  it 
may  seem  strange  that  so  much  can  be  said  of  it,  and 
so  well  said,  without  repetition  or  weariness,  even 
when  it  is  kept  distinctly  in  view.  There  have  been 
preachers,  of  whose  instructions  the  people  never 
tired,  who  made  Christ  the  visible  centre  of  every 
sermon.  If  we  may  judge  by  his  letters,  Rutherford 
was  one  of  these.  The  name  of  Christ  is  on  every 
page,  and  as  you  turn  over  leaf  after  leaf,  your  won- 
der increases  that  he  should  find  so  much  that  seems 
fresh  to  say.  The  "  holy  Herbert"  could  find  more 
than  one  meaning  in  the  simple  name  of  Jesus: 
every  letter  had  its  value, — 

"  Jesu  is  in  my  heart ;   His  sacred  name 
Is  deeply  carved  there.     But  the  other  week 
A  great  affliction  broke  the  Httle  frame 
Even  all  to  pieces,  which  I  went  to  seek, 
And  first  I  found  the  corner  where  was  i, 
After  where  ES,  and  next  where  U  was  graved. 
When  I  had  got  these  parcels,  instantly 
I  sat  me  down  to  spell  them,  and  perceived 
That  to  my  broken  heart  he  was  I  ease  you, 
And  to  my  -lohole  is  yesu.'''' 

What,  then,  must  be  the  Cross  when  we  sweep  the 


Tlie  Ccntrality  of  the  Cross.  151 

whole  range  of  its  topics,  reaching  indefinitely  over 
the  deeper  experiences  of  the  heart  and  over  the 
vaster  problems  of  the  reason  ? 

But  we  are  already  on  the  verge  of  a  second 
thought,  which  is  that  our  subject  affords  a  reason 
why  the  Cross  has  always  been  such  an  object  of 
veneration  since  Christ  has  rescued  it  from  shame. 
We  can  almost  excuse  the  relic-worshipper,  though 
we  pity  him,  when  he  regards  with  the  profoundest 
veneration  a  bit  of  wood  which  he  believes  to  have 
constituted  a  part  of  the  "  accursed  tree."  We  honor 
the  Crusader  who  blazoned  this  emblem  on  his  shield, 
and  the  architect  who  gave  this  form  to  the  sanc- 
tuary. Even  to  us,  who  employ-  no  symbols,  the 
sight  of  the  Cross  is  affecting.  Of  all  sacred  moun- 
tains there  is  none  which  we  would  so  long  to  see  as 
Calvary.  Carmel  has  its  interest,  and  we  would  climb 
its  rocky  side  with  eagerness  that  we  might  stand 
where  the  prophet  bowed  himself  toward  the  sea  and 
waited  for  rain  after  he  had  called  down  the  rain. 
Piseah  and  Horeb  we  should  love  to  visit.  Sinai, 
once  shrouded  by  vapors  girding  about  the  ychovali, 
and  trembling  at  the  sound  of  His  voice,  the  mount 
on  which  Moses  kneeled  to  receive  the  law,  we 
should  explore  it  with  enthusiasm.  But  on  Calvary 
our  hearts  would  burn  and  our  eyes  grow  dim.  Here 
is  the  great  altar  of  the  world ;  here  bled  the  Lamb, 


152  Sermons^ 

here  were  borne  our  sins,  here  were  carried  our  sor- 
rows. The  death  of  Christ  has  made  you,  my  bro- 
ther, more  of  a  man  than  you  could  have  been  with- 
out it.  My  sister,  it  has  secured  for  you  the  most 
priceless  consolations.  To  all  of  us  it  has  brought 
our  best  gifts,  and  made  possible  our  richest  attain- 
ments. No  wonder  that  around  the  word  Calvary 
gather  the  holiest  associations,  no  wonder  that  to 
those  who  reject  all  symbols  as  superstitious  there  is 
yet  the  sweetest  sound,  in  that  word,  the  Cross. 

We  see  also,  and  finally,  the  glory  of  a  life  devoted 
to  Christ.  If  in  Him  all  things  centre,  it  is  an  honor 
to  be  counted  His  willing  tributaries.  Whatever  we 
do  for  Christ,  however  humble  our  sphere,  is  some- 
thing done  toward  the  grandest  of  all  objects  of  ex- 
ertion,— it  is  something  done  for  eternity.  The  greater 
part  of  the  aspirations  with  which  men  enter  the 
period  of  active  life  are  destined  to  be  unrealized. 
Wealth,  power,  pleasure  will  not,  in  general,  be  ac- 
quired in  that  abundance  which  hope  promises. 
Pleasure  gained  will  often  prove  a  flower  shedding  its 
petals  as  it  is  plucked  from  the  stalk.  Ambition's 
crown,  when  gained,  will  often  lacerate  the  brow  it 
adorns.  Men  may  safely  glory  in  the  Cross,  and  feel 
sure  that  their  lives  are  not  wasted  in  shedding  glory 
upon  it. 

Nay,  it  is  to  their  own  eternal  disadvantage  if  they 


TIic  Centrality  of  the   Cross.  153 

will  not  both  glory  in  and  seek  to  honor  it.  We 
must  consent  to  be  used  in  some  way  for  the  final 
exaltation  of  our  Saviour  against  our  wills  if  we  do 
not  consent  to  a  free  and  glad  allegiance ;  for  Christ 
shall  be  unwillingly  honored  even  by  those  who  reject 
Him,  and  they  having  served  their  purpose  in  the 
overruling  providence  of  God,  shall  be  flung  aside  to 
perish.  How  much  better  to  take  the  humblest  place 
in  His  train,  and,  identifying  ourselves  with  Christ  on 
earth,  be  identified  with  Him  in  glory. 


II. 

CHRIST  THE  SON  OF  MAN. 

"  Wherefore  in  all  things  it  behooved  him  to  be  made  like  unto  his 
brethren." — Hebrews  ii.  17. 

"There  is  neither  Jew  nor  Greek,  there  is  neither  bond  nor  free, 
there  is  neither  male  nor  female;  for  ye  are  all  one  in  Christ  Jesus." — 
Galatians  iii.  28. 

THESE  passages  have  a  profounder  significance 
than  one  might  at  first  perceive.  They  reveal, 
indeed,  the  fact  that  Christ  was  thoroughly  human, — 
He  must  have  been  that  if  made  in  all  points  like 
unto  His  brethren, — but  they  also  reveal  the  fact  that 
Christ's  humanity  was  of  a  more  perfect  type  than 
that  possessed  by  any  of  us ;  that  it  was  so  broad,  so 
deep,  so  full  that  He  is  not  so  much  a  specimen  of 
humanity  as  the  embodiment  of  humanity.  He  is 
made  in  all  points  not  like  one  of  his  brethren,  but 
like  each  of  them.  He,  in  whom  we  are  all  one,  is 
neither  a  perfect  Jew,  nor  a  perfect  Greek.  Jew  and 
Greek,  bond  and  free,  male  and  female,  all  have  such 
a  unity  in  Him  that  He  is  everything  to  each.  In 
short,  He  is  not  merely  a  perfect  man, — that  is,  a  being 
with  a  human  soul  and  with  all  the  faculties  of  a  man, — 
154 


CJirist  the  Son  of  Man.  1 5  5 

but  also  He  has  in  Himself  all  the  elements  of  a  pure 
human  character  in  their  perfection.  He  is  not  a  man, 
but  iJic  man  in  whom  all  human  excellences  and 
peculiarities  are  combined, — not  one-sided  as  we  are, 
not  many-sided,  but  <:r//-sided. 

To  explain  this  more  fully,  let  me  fix  your  thought 
for  a  moment  on  what  is  commonly  understood  as 
individuality .  We  are  all  alike  in  many  particulars, 
yet  each  of  us  is  cast  in  a  mould  which  is  in  some 
respects  peculiar.  The  elements  of  our  characters 
are  in  some  respects  peculiarly  combined.  Some 
traits  are  stronger  in  one  and  weaker  in  another. 
Our  individuality  comes  from  the  combination  of 
qualities  which  go  to  make  us  what  we  are.  Our 
strongest  traits  are  generally  styled  our  characteris- 
tics. When  we  say  that  a  man  is  intensely  indi- 
vidual, we  commonly  mean  that  some  of  his  traits  are 
unusually  developed ;  and  it  is  these  traits  to  which 
we  especially  refer  in  describing  him. 

A  and  B,  for  example,  are  alike  in  this, — each  is  a 
man  possessed  of  mind,  heart,  will,  and  every  one  of 
the  long  catalogue  of  distinctively  human  qualities; 
yet  they  are  very  unlike.  A  is  a  poet  of  delicate 
organization  and  of  fiery  impulses.  B  is  a  mechanic 
of  cool  and  inventive  genius.  They  move  in  entirely 
different  planes,  live  almost  totally  different  lives. 
Such  is  their   individuality.      Now   it   is  conceivable 


156  Sermons. 

that  a  man  might  be  formed  and  so  organized  as  to 
constitute  a  Hnk  between  these  two,  having  the  prom- 
inent qualities  of  each  so  well  developed  in  himself 
that,  being  both  poet  and  artisan,  he  might  form  a  fit 
companion  for  either.  And  so  it  is  conceivable  that 
a  human  being  might  be  so  constituted  as  to  have  in 
himself  all  that  distinguishes  three,  four,  a  hundred 
individuals.  If  God  should  have  reason  for  creat- 
ing a  human  being  in  whom  should  be  combined 
all  that  distinguishes  every  man  from  his  neighbor, 
there  is  no  difficulty  in  supposing  that  He  might  pro- 
duce so  wonderful  a  creation.  That  would  be  depart- 
ing from  His  usual  rule,  but  it  would  be  as  easy  to 
Omnipotence  as  the  creation  of  one-sided  souls.  He 
creates  us  as  we  are  for  wise  and  loving  reasons.  He 
does  it  because  by  such  diversities  the  great  ends  of 
our  combination  in  a  race  are  thereby  best  secured. 
A  is  a  better  poet  because  he  is  only  that ;  his  nature 
has  fitted  him  only  for  the  realm  of  feeling  and  of 
imagination.  He  could  not  be  prince  there  if,  by 
other  tastes,  he  were  constantly  drawn  out  of  that 
realm.  B  is  a  better  mechanic  because  he  sees  only 
a  water-power  in  Niagara,  and  a  silken  scarf  in  a  rain- 
bow. The  world  has  in  both  a  good  poet  and  a  good 
mechanic,  whereas  were  each  brought  to  the  same 
intellectual  and  physical  level  it  would  probably  have 
two  equally  good  in  verse  and  in  mechanics,  and  in 


Christ  the  Son  of  Man.  157 

neither  distinguished.  God  creates  us  unlike  that  the 
race,  as  a  whole,  may  be  most  efficient.  But  if,  for 
once,  and  for  wise  reasons,  He  were  to  so  vary  His 
plan  as  to  produce  a  perfect  man, — that  is,  one  in 
whom  all  that  is  possible  in  humanity  should  be 
brought  to  perfection, — we  should  have  one  fitted  for 
every  sphere  and  equally  good  in  all.  Whatever  he 
might  attempt  he  might  be  always  successful  and 
always  grand, — grand  even  among  bales  and  boxes, 
even  among  looms  and  spindles. 

Such  a  man,  as  to  his  humanity,  we  suppose  Christ 
to  have  been.  We  know  that  He  had  all  the  feeling 
of  the  artist :  He  shows  it  in  the  grouping  of  His  para- 
bles, and  in  the  bits  of  color  which  attracted  His  eye 
and  adorned  His  words.  He  had  all  the  feelings  of 
the  poet:  His  utterances  are  sometimes  almost  rhyth- 
mical, as  if  they  fell  of  themselves  into  unconscious 
verse;  and  all  the  power  of  the  orator:  the  common 
people  heard  Him  gladly, — never  man  spake  like  this 
man  ;  and  all  the  wisdom  of  the  statesman  :  His  course 
toward  the  civil  government  was  surpassingly  pru- 
dent; and  had  all  the  sagacity  of  the  merchant:  His 
illustrations  from  commercial  exchanges  show  how 
well  He  understood  them.  He  was  neither  of  these, 
but  He  might  have  been  either. 

Having  in  view  the  ideas  just  expressed  respecting 
individuality,  this  might  seem  to  destroy  the  individ- 


158  Sermons. 

uality  of  Christ,  since  an  absolute  perfection  is  incon- 
sistent with  an  excessive  development  of  a  marked 
characteristic.  On  the  contrary,  the  individuality  of 
Christ  is  the  more  marked  because  of  His  perfection. 
He  is  the  singular  man  of  all  the  race  and  all  the 
ages.  His  character  stands  out  alone,  as  a  perfect 
and  polished  sphere  contrasts  with  the  imperfect  and 
half-polished  blocks  which  surround  it.  We  have 
really  two  forms  of  individuality,  one  of  which  is  far 
superior  to  the  other.  Some  of  the  most  perfect 
works  of  architecture  consist  of  an  almost  endless 
combination  of  materials  and  forms.  Many  kinds  of 
stone  are  used  in  the  building.  The  quarries  of  Ab- 
erdeen furnish  the  columns  of  the  door-ways.  The 
marbles  of  Tennessee,  of  Vermont,  of  Carrara  sup- 
port the  arches  within.  Here  is  one  tint  in  the  fa- 
gade,  here  another.  Here  is  one  form  of  capital,  here 
a  second,  here  a  third.  Here  is  one  kind  of  wood, 
and  not  far  away  another.  Here  are  bolts  of  iron, 
here  are  leaves  of  gold.  There  are  tessellated  squares 
in  the  pavement,  and  the  light  which  falls  upon  them 
is  colored  by  the  pictured  windows  through  which  it 
streams.  Now,  if  we  resolve  each  of  these  substances 
into  its  elementary  particles  we  find  them  alike. 
They  are  differently  combined  so  as  to  produce  indi- 
viduality in  all  the  varied  parts,  yet  all  together 
they  go  to  form  one  grand  whole.     The  building  is 


Christ  the  Son  of  Man.  159 

more  complete  than  any  of  its  parts,  and  is  more  in- 
dividual because  combining  all  the  inferior  individu- 
alities of  its  material.  Somewhat  thus  it  is  with  our 
perfect  Saviour,  in  whom  all  the  materials  of  His 
church,  "  fitly  framed  together,  groweth  into  a  holy 
temple  in  the  Lord." 

Having  regarded  this  perfection  of  Christ's  human- 
ity as  a  fact,  we  may  now  regard  it  as  a  necessity. 
"Wherefore  in  all  things  it  behooved  Him  to  be  made 
like  unto  His  brethren."  Why  ?  The  record  goes 
on  to- say,  "That  He  might  be  a  merciful  and  faithful 
High  Priest,  in  things  pertaining  to  God,  to  make 
reconciliation  for  the  sins  of  the  people  ;  for,  in  that 
He  Himself  hath  suffered,  being  tempted,  He  is  able 
to  succor  them  that  are  tempted." 

You  see  the  point.  The  apostle  does  not  here 
state  that  for  the  discharge  of  His  official  duties 
Christ  must  have  all  mental  qualities  in  their  fullest 
development,  but  he  certainly  implies  it;  for  it  is 
difficult  to  understand  how  He  could  make  reconcilia- 
tion for  the  sins  of  everybody  except  as  He  is  fitted 
to  stand  in  place  of  everybody.  His  death  is  accepted 
by  the  Father  in  place  of  that  of  all  who  believe  on 
Him.  His  atonement  is  as  satisfactory  for  the  sins  of 
A,  the  poet,  whose  errors  grow  out  of  his  sensibilities, 
as  for  the  sins  of  B,  the  mechanic,  whose  errors  grow 
out  of  his  differing  habits  and  associations.     It  is  im- 


i6o  Sermons. 

possible  to  see  how  He  is  able  to  succor  all  who  are 
tempted  except  as  He  is  fitted  to  appreciate  their 
temptations  by  some  likeness  to  each  in  His  all  inclu- 
sive nature.  If  Christ  has  not  the  mental  character- 
istics of  all,  He  cannot  as  a  man  comprehend  their 
nioral  states,  for  the  moral  states  are  closely  allied  to 
the  mental.  But  if  He  has  them,  is  He  fitted  to  be 
our  High  Priest  indeed.  If  He  has  them,  zvlioever 
sins  may  feel,  when  he  comes  with  penitence  to  God, 
that  his  case  will  be  fully  understood  by  Him,  that  He 
will  urge  the  suit  as  if  it  were  His  own,  and  that  when 
the  atonement  is  plead,  the  Father  will  consider  that 
it  was  personal  and  ample  for  the  suppliant,  whatever 
the  peculiar  sins  which  have  come  from  his  peculiar 
organization.  No  one  struggling  with  his  besetting 
sins  need  fear  that  he  will  not  have  just  the  sympathy 
and  just  the  help  he  needs  from  this  all-sided  Christ, 
who  can  exactly  understand  him,  because  created  in 
all  points  like  unto  himself  Jesus,  the  perfect,  is  one 
friend  in  whom  all  the  imperfect  may  find  their  help, 
their  hope,  their  rest.  The  Jew,  the  Greek,  the  bond, 
the  free  are  all  satisfied  from  Him  in  whom  they  are 
all  one. 

Having  this  completeness  of  human  nature,  Christ 
becomes  to  us  the  best  example  of  all  that  is  strongest 
and  gentlest.  Looking  at  Him  we  see  that  a  char- 
acter at  once  vigorous  and  graceful  is  not  impossible. 


Christ  the  Sou  of  Man.  i6i 

We  learn  to  glory  in  our  strength,  and  not  to  be 
ashamed  of  our  sensibilities.  The  life  of  Christ  is 
worthy  to  be  studied  by  one  who  aspires  to  be  a  hero, 
or  by  one  who  would  know  how  to  be  beloved.  The 
personal  offices  of  Christ  are  for  all.  As  a  friend,  He 
could  be  chief  among  ten  thousand  to  Luther,  the 
great  reformer;  and  to  Madame  Guyon,  who, like  Mary, 
sat  at  Jesus'  feet.  There  is  enough  in  Him,  though  He 
wielded  no  sword,  to  stir  a  warrior's  blood.  There  is 
that  in  Him  which  so  draws  out  the  timid  maiden's 
heart,  that  she  will  whisper  to  Him  what  is  too  sacred 
for  any  other  ear. 

So,  then,  this  blessed  and  comforting  truth  is  estab- 
lished,— that  each  of  us  may  have  a  personal  Saviour  ; 
to  speak  with  reverence,  a  Christ  of  his  own  ;  one  who 
shall  be  to  each  just  as  perfect,  just  as  satisfying  as 
if  created  for  him  alone.  No  man  nor  woman  may 
need  to  appropriate  all  there  is  in  Christ,  but  every 
one  can  appropriate  what  is  wanted.  One  may  want 
a  grand  and  noble  Christ.  Resorting  to  Him,  he  will 
find  all  the  grand  and  noble  qualities  he  seeks.  An- 
other may  require  a  gentle  and  loving  Christ.  Re- 
sorting to  Him,  the  qualities  which  the  former  did  not 
specially  perceive,  because  he  did  not  look  for  them, 
come  out  warm  and  glowing.  Were  each  to  describe 
the  Christ  he  has  found,  the  portraiture  would  be  so 
different  that,  looking  on  the  delineation  of  both,  you 


1 62  Sermons. 

would  say,  These  are  two  Christs.  No !  They  are 
partial  sketches  of  the  same  Christ.  Each  has  the 
same  Christ,  yet  each  has  a  Christ  of  his  own. 

In  this  connection  I  have  thought  it  providential 
that  there  is  no  authentic  likeness  of  Christ  in  ex- 
istence. It  is  strange  that  there  should  be  none, 
strange  that  one  who  was  so  prominent  and  so  much 
revered  should  never  have  been  painted  or  outlined 
in  some  way  by  pencil  or  chisel.  St.  Luke  is  said 
to  have  been  a  painter.  Strange  that  not  even  an 
authorized  description  of  his  personal  appearance 
should  be  given  us.  So  completely  uninformed  are 
we  in  this  particular,  that  it  is  disputed  whether 
He  was  fair  as  the  rose  of  Sharon,  or,  like  a  root  out 
of  a  dry  ground,  without  form  or  comeliness.  There 
is  an  old  intaglio  cut  on  a  seal-ring  which  has  been 
claimed  as  a  likeness,  but  proved  a  forgery.  The 
face  on  Veronica's  handkerchief  is  but  the  fancy  of  a 
legend.  The  description  attributed  to  a  letter  of 
Publius  Lentulus  is  without  credit.  How  unfortunate! 
No  ;  it  is  better  that  we  have  no  such  temptation  to 
picture-worship  as  an  authentic  likeness  of  Christ 
would  furnish.  It  x^far  better  that  we  should  have 
no  such  fixed  form  to  disturb  the  ideal  which  each 
of  us  is  now  at  liberty  to  form  for  himself.  If,  when 
you  have  found  your  Christ,  you  choose  to  associate 
Him  with  form  and  feature,  you  may  invest  your  ideal 


Christ  the  Son  of  Man.  163 

of  Him  with  such  form  and  feature  as  befit  Him,  If 
you  cherish  some  dear  conception  of  what  He  is  in 
your  soul,  no  one  can  now  bid  you  correct  it.  No 
one  can  overlay  the  picture  which  satisfies  you  with 
another,  which,  if  reasonably  true,  might  not  so  satisfy 
you.  Let  another  cherish  a  different  ideal,  if  he  will. 
It  may  be  better  for  him  than  mine,  but  let  him  not 
take  mine  from  me.  The  truth  is,  no  artist  could  have 
ever  painted  Christ,  and  I  am  thankful  that  it  was  so 
ordered  that  no  artist  ever  tried. 

Christ  is  to  me  what  I  need,  and  as  my  circum- 
stances change  or  my  spiritual  wants  increase,  I  still 
find  in  Him  an  exhaustless  Christ.  In  the  earlier 
days  of  my  experience,  while  life  is  unclouded  and 
young,  I  am  charmed  by  the  conversation  of  my 
Christ  at  the  marriage  feast  or  by  the  well  of  Sa- 
maria. Then,  by  and  by,  when  I  am  in  Genessaret, 
in  night  and  storm,  I  discover  that  my  Christ  can 
walk  on  the  waves  and  call  to  the  tempest-tossed,  "  It 
is  I,  be  not  afraid  !"  I  find  my  Christ  at  the  fireside, 
blessing  my  children  ;  and  then,  after  a  time,  at  the 
tomb,  weeping  in  sympathy  with  my  grief  I  go  out 
to  the  hill-sides,  and  there  my  Christ  instructs  me 
from  meadow  and  from  pasture,  from  harvest-field 
and  from  vineyard ;  and  when,  some  dismal  night,  I 
go  into  Gethsemane  to  pray,  "  If  it  be  possible,  let 
this  cup  pass   from   me,"  I  find  my  Christ  kneeling 


164  Sermons. 

there,  and  He  teaches  me  to  say,  "  Nevertheless,  not 
as  I  will,  but  as  Thou  wilt." 

It  is  no  wonder  that  to  the  Apostle  Paul  Christ 
was  the  centre  and  the  inspiration  of  his  spiritual  life. 
No  wonder  that  to  him  Christ  was  the  embodiment 
of  all  that  is  distinguishing  in  Christianity,  the  sum 
of  all  that  can  satisfy  the  heart  of  man.  He  probably 
saw  more  in  Christ  than  any  of  us  have  ever  found ; 
his  experiences  were  more  varied  and  profound  than 
ours.  But  it  is  instructive  to  notice  that  he  was  ever 
finding  something  new  in  Him.  He  discovered  one 
quality  only  to  see  that  there  was  another  behind  it. 
From  the  day  when  Christ  appeared  to  him  in  majesty 
before  Damascus,  with  blinding  flash  and  rebuking 
voice,  to  the  day  when  He  came  to  him  in  Jerusalem 
to  cheer  him,  when  enemies  sought  his  life,  He  was  a 
perpetual  learner  of  the  fulness  of  Christ's  nature. 
So  intimate,  at  last,  did  the  relations  of  Christ  become 
to  him,  that  at  times  the  apostle  was  entirely  lost  in 
the  Saviour.  He  was  crucified  with  Christ;  he  lived, 
and  yet  it  was  not  he  that  lived,  but  Christ  that  lived 
in  him.  Yet,  so  conscious  was  he  that  there  was 
more  in  Christ  than  he  had  ever  found,  that,  while 
urging  others  to  know  His  love,  he  confessed  that 
that  love  passeth  knowledge.  You  will  say  at  once 
that,  in  this  respect,  St.  Paul  is  no  example  for  us; 
tliat  he  was  inspired,  that  he  was  personally  chosen 


Christ  the  Son  of  Man.  165 

as  an  apostle,  and  so  brought  into  the  most  intimate 
spiritual  fellowship  with  Christ;  Christ  revealed  Him- 
self to  him  as  He  never  will  reveal  Himself  to  us. 
But  if  that  be  so,  does  it  not  prove  all  that  I  have 
said  as  to  the  boundless  perfections  of  Christ  ?  If 
Christ  was  more  than  enough  to  His  inspired  apostle, 
may  He  not  be  more  than  enough  to  you  and  to  me  ? 
Does  not  the  apostle  labor  to  show  that  what  Christ 
was  to  him.  He  may  be  relatively  to  all  ?  The  truth 
is  we  are  contented  with  far  less  spiritual  fellowship 
with  Christ  than  He  desires  that  we  should  enjoy. 

Perhaps  our  views  of  Him  are  wrong.  If  we  regard 
Him  as  merely  a  man  of  exceptional  purity  and  per- 
fection. He  may  shine  on  us  like  a  distant  star,  hang- 
ing bright  and  warm  in  the  horizon  of  history,  but 
He  will  never  be  personally  ours.  If  we  regard  Him 
as  divine  in  such  a  sense  that  His  human  nature,  pen- 
etrated by  His  divinity,  becomes  a  different  human 
nature  from  yours,  you  will  not  go  to  Him  as  you 
may.  Here  is  the  danger  with  most  of  us.  We 
believe  that  Christ  is  at  once  God  and  man  ;  but 
when  we  think  of  Him  as  man,  He  appears  infinitely 
above  us  as  such.  We  can  scarcely  realize  that  it  is 
possible  for  Him  to  appreciate  and  to  enter  into  sym- 
pathy with  our  duller  humanity,  or  that,  if  He  could, 
it  would  be  worthy  of  Him  to  stoop  so  low.  We  may 
go  to  Him  in  reverential  prayer.     We  might  touch 


1 66  Sermons. 

His  robes,  if  He  were  to  admit  us  to  audience.  We 
are  not  so  presumptuous  as  to  look  for  Him  in  our 
homes,  or  to  expect  that  He  will  walk  with  us 
through  the  dusty  streets.  But  why  should  we  for- 
get what  He  Himself  has  declared  ?  "I  stand  at  the 
door  and  knock','  "  I  will  come  in  and  sup  with 
him,"  "  I  will  abide  with  him."  "  Lo,  I  am  with 
you  alway." 

Let  us  learn  to  regard  Him  as,  by  virtue  of  His 
large  humanity  and  His  loving  heart,  our  best  and 
most  constant  friend.  Then  we  shall  be  glad  that 
our  glorious  guest  and  associate  is  also  divine.  Our 
lives  will  be  elevated  and  ennobled  by  His  com- 
panionship, made  purer  and  more  happy  by  His 
presence  and  love. 

Let  those  who  are  as  yet  unattracted  to  Christ, 
because  seeing  in  Him  only  an  official  Saviour  and 
final  judge,  behold  in  Him  tlie  one  altogether  lovely. 

Let  those  who  defer  coming  to  Him  as  something 
to  be  desired,  yet  for  nameless  reasons  dreaded,  see 
that  they  are  daily  losing  that  which  is  noblest  in 
character,  best  in  friendship,  of  most  worth  in  all  the 
anxieties  and  joys  of  life. 

Let  those  who  think  they  are  excusable  for  ne- 
glecting Him,  as  if  He  did  not  care  for  them,  hear 
now  His  footsteps  and  His  signal,  "  Behold,  I  stand 
at  the  door  and  knock!" 


III. 

"WHAT   IS   THAT   TO   THEE?     FOLLOW   THOU   ME!" 

"Then  Peter,  turning  about,  seeth  the  disciple  whom  Jesus  loved 
following ;  which  also  leaned  on  His  breast  at  supper,  and  said,  Lord, 
which  is  he  that  betrayeth  Thee  ?  Peter  seeing  him  saith  to  Jesus, 
Lord,  and  what  shall  this  man  do  ?  Jesus  saith  imto  him.  If  I  will 
that  he  tarry  till  I  come,  what  is  that  to  thee?  Follow  thou  Me!" — 
John  xxi.  20,  21,  22. 

LET  US  recall  the  connections  of  this  somewhat 
remarkable  passage.  Its  place  in  the  gospel 
history  is  near  the  close  of  Christ's  earthly  ministry. 
The  scene  of  the  story  into  which  it  is  framed  is  the 
shore  of  Tiberias.  The  time  is  the  early  morning.  A 
fire,  burnt  low,  smokes  and  smoulders  on  the  sand. 
Two  boats  are  drawn  up  on  the  beach,  both  laden 
with  miraculously-provided  spoils  of  the  sea.  Seven 
fishermen,  disciples  of  Jesus,  are  gathered  about  their 
Lord,  each  face  marked  by  an  expression  of  unusual 
interest.  Their  leader,  Peter,  has  been  subjected  to  a 
kind  of  trial,  and  has  received  what  some  would  call 
a  sentence.  The  trial  turned  upon  the  question, 
*'  Lovest  thou   Me  ?"     It  was   pressed  in  triple  form 

of  examination.     Peter  was  his  own  witness.     "  Not 

167 


1 68  Sermons. 

guilty"  was  his  plea.  "  Thou  knowest  that  I  love 
Thee"  was  his  sufficient  appeal.  The  judge  was  sat- 
isfied ;  but,  after  putting  the  disciple  upon  practical 
proof,  He  proceeded  to  announce  the  disciple's  ap- 
proaching martyrdom.  "  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto 
thee,  when  thou  wast  young  thou  girdedst  thyself  and 
walkedst  whither  thou  wouldst;  but  when  thou 
shalt  be  old  thou  shalt  stretch  forth  thy  hand,  and 
another  shall  gird  thee  and  carry  thee  whither  thou 
wouldst  not."  Then  turning,  as  if  to  go,  He  gives 
him  the  final  charge,  "  Follow  thou  Me  !" 

This  trial  was  not  judicial,  nor  was  the  prediction 
of  martyrdom  of  the  nature  of  punishment, — "  This 
spake  He,  signifying  by  what  death  he  should  glorify 
God."  Peter  understood  it,  but  both  trial  and  proph- 
ecy were  calculated  to  stir  him  up  from  the  depths  of 
his  impulsive  nature.  He  is  ready.  For  himself,  at  that 
moment,  he  shrinks  from  nothing  ;  but  as  he  moves 
away,  in  obedience  to  his  Lord,  his  ear  catches  the 
footsteps  of  John.  He  turns,  and  in  an  instant  his 
mind  flies  from  his  own  fate  to  that  of  his  companion, 
and,  impulsive  as  ever,  he  cries,  "  Lord,  and  what 
shall  this  man  do  ?"  or,  leaving  out  the  Italics,  which 
are  the  explanatory  words  of  our  translators,  "  What 
this  man  ?"  The  purport  of  the  question  is,  "  What 
shall  happen  to  him  ?"  Very  natural  is  the  question. 
Peter  and  John,  though  as  different  almost  as  sun- 


"  Follozu  thou  Mc  f  169 

shine  is  from  storm,  were  greatly  attached  to  each 
other,  as  persons  of  contrary  natures  often  are.  John 
was  at  this  moment  following,  as  if  to  show  his  sym- 
pathy, and  it  was  not  strange  that  Peter  should  wish 
to  know  how  his  friend  should  fare.  Characteristic 
as  is  the  question,  not  less  characteristic  is  the  Mas- 
ter's reply,  "  If  I  will  that  he  tarry  till  I  come,  what 
is  that  to  thee  ?     Follow  thou  Me  !" 

We  have  three  points  deserving  of  special  study : 
(i)  an  impulse  of  curiosity;  (2)  an  enigmatical 
reply;  and  (3)  a  practical  command. 

Curiosity  is  one  of  the  strongest  instincts  of  our 
nature.  I  call  it  an  instinct,  for  it  is  a  craving  as 
truly  as  hunger.  It  is  the  longing  for  knowledge, 
and  is  particularly  excited  by  that  which  seems  mys- 
terious. We  are  often  content  to  remain  in  ignorance 
until  our  ignorance  is  challenged.  Our  attention  is 
called  to  the  fact  that  something  supposed  to  be 
worth  knowing  is  concealed,  then  we  become  im- 
patient to  learn.  The  world  is  full  of  secrets,  and  our 
progress  in  knowledge  is  due,  in  great  measure,  to 
the  natural  desire  to  get  behind  the  veils  which  are 
presumed  to  conceal  something  of  interest.  As  the 
child  is  curious  to  know  the  secret  of  his  rattle,  and 
breaks  it  to  ascertain,  so  the  man  is  curious  to  know 
the  secret  of  eye  and  ear  and  touch  and  taste,  and 
falls  to  anatomical  investigation.     The  man  may  have 


1 70  SennoJis. 

a  higher  object  than  the  child,  but  would  have  in- 
terest enough  to  keep  him  busy  in  his  investigations 
were  he  simply  desirous  to  know  that  which  chal- 
lenges his  curiosity.  Some  of  the  acutest  minds  of 
the  day  are  busy  in  hunting  for  the  secret  of  life.  Its 
discovery  was  announced  long  ago  when  the  func- 
tions of  the  heart  were  explained.  Doubt  was  thrown 
upon  the  discovery  when  the  question  arose,  What 
vitalizes  the  heart?  An  answer  was  found  in  the 
nervous  system.  The  secret  was  supposed  to  be 
hunted  down  in  the  brain  or  the  ganglia,  until  some 
one  asked,  What  gives  the  brain  its  activity  ?  Then 
the  whole  system  was  taken  to  pieces,  and  vital 
forces  looked  for  in  fluids  and  molecules.  Here  is 
the  secret,  says  one, — the  brain  is  a  battery.  Here  it 
is,  says  another, — these  particles  have  movement. 
Then  curiosity  was  roused  again  by  the  question. 
Where  do  the  supplies  of  the  battery  come  from  ? 
What  is  the  secret  of  life  in  the  molecules  ?  The 
same  insatiable  desire  to  knoiv  urges  on  the  mind  in 
all  branches  of  inquiry,  and  is  most  useful  in  adding 
to  those  stores  of  knowledge,  already  so  vast,  and  in 
disposing  of  those  vast  stores  of  error  which  have 
yearly  to  be  swept  out  of  the  world. 

That  man's  curiosity  should  be  exercised  over  the 
mysteries  of  religion  is  therefore  to  be"  expected.  He 
is  as   restless   before  the  veils  of  revelation  as  he  is 


"  Fol/ozv  thou  Mc  r 


171 


before  those  of  nature.  The  Bible  presents  God  to 
the  mind  as  a  spirit.  Curiosity  at  once  inquires  into 
His  attributes  and  His  modes  of  being.  The  Bible 
declares  that  He  is  infinite;  but  curiosity  goes  out 
with  its  measuring  line  upon  the  infinite  until  it  is 
bewildered.  The  Bible  speaks  of  God's  purposes,  and 
curiosity  prompts  to  the  inquiry,  What  are  they? 
How  were  they  formed  ?  What  are  the  laws  of  their 
execution  ?  The  Bible  declares  certain  facts  as  to  sin 
and  its  remedy.  Curiosity  demands  the  philosophy 
of  those  facts.  The  process  is  ever  the  same :  strip 
off  the  husk  to  get  at  the  kernel ;  break  the  kernel 
to  reveal  the  germ ;  dissect  the  germ  to  separate  its 
particles;  interrogate  the  particles  as  to  their  origin 
and  vitality. 

Doubtless  the  results  of  inquiry  into  the  mysteries 
of  God's  being,  His  revelation  and  His  providences, 
have  been  to  a  certain  degree  useful.  The  greatness 
of  God  has  been  rendered  more  conspicuous  by 
human  attempts  to  comprehend  Him.  The  wide 
reach  of  His  justice,  the  bottomless  depths  of  His 
mercy,  the  grandeur  of  His  authority,  and  the  safe 
enfolding  of  His  fatherhood  have  all  become  more 
certain  facts  to  us  in  consequence  of  our  study.  So 
His  precepts  have  been  traced  to  the  principles  which 
underlie  them.  We  have  had  glorious  glimpses  of 
rhythmic  laws  in  contemplating  His  providences.     We 


1 72      '  Servions. 

have  been  led  to  many  a  high  and  holy  experience 
whilst  hovering  about  the  darker  places  of  His  word, 
and  listening  to  the  voices  or  receiving  the  quickening 
forces  which  come  out  of  the  shadows  impenetrable. 
Theology  is  more  of  a  science  than  astronomy,  and 
the  Christian  life  is  almost  as  carefully  analyzed  as  the 
life  of  the  body. 

But  whilst  we  thus  admit  that  curiosity  has  its  office 
both  in  nature  and  religion,  we  must  call  attention  to 
its  necessary  limitations.  The  curiosity  of  Peter 
respecting  the  fate  of  his  companion  was  both  baffled 
and  rebuked  by  the  enigmatical  reply  of  the  Master, 
"  If  I  will  that  he  tarry  till  I  come,  what  is  that  to 
ihee  ?"  There  are  some  things  which  it  is  not  for 
man  to  know.  Nature  talks  to  us  in  riddles,  as  Christ 
answered  Peter.  Revelation  has  its  riddles  in  both 
Testaments.  Jehovah's  self-assumed  title  is,  ''Iain!' 
His  definition  of  self  is,  "/  am  tJiat  I  avi!'  Christ 
often  puzzled  both  enemy  and  friend  by  His  sayings. 
He  even  declared  that  the  purpose  of  some  of  His 
parables  was  that  whilst  to  His  disciples  it  might  be 
given  to  know  the  mysteries  of  the  kingdom  of  God, 
others  "  seeing  might  not  understand."  Some  things 
relating  to  the  being  of  God  cannot  be  comprehended, 
however  clearly  they  may  be  stated.  We  cannot 
even  comprehend  the  nature  and  the  working  of  our 
own   souls.     We   know  that  we  are  able  to  perform 


*^ Folioio  thou  Me/"  173 

distinct  mental  operations,  and  we  give  our  mental 
faculties  names,  as  memory,  fancy,  reason ;  but  we 
know  little  more  of  them  than  their  manner  of  work- 
ing. Take  memory,  e.g.  Past  events,  past  scenes 
are  reproduced  to  the  mental  vision ;  we  see  them 
though  no  picture  is  on  the  retina.  Strains  of  music 
go  sounding  through  the  soul  though  the  ear  is  un- 
disturbed. The  face  of  a  lost  friend,  the  tones  of  his 
voice,  the  light  of  his  smile  are  all  vivid,  scarcely  fad- 
ing as  the  years  go  by.  What  is  the  secret  of  this 
wonderful  power?  But  memory  is  a  comparatively 
simple  facult}-.  If  we  cannot  comprehend  this,  how 
can  we  comprehend  the  varied  processes  of  reason, 
balancing,  testing,  linking  thought?  But  if  we  can- 
not understand  ourselves,  how  can  we  hope  to  com- 
prehend a  memory  which  never  forgets  and  a  reason 
which  never  loses  a  link, — a  memory  which  is  omnis- 
cience, a  reason  which  is  intuition  ?  So  as  to  the 
operations  of  Providence.  Here  is  an  intricate  ma- 
chine. You  study  it  for  hours  without  fully  under- 
standing all  its  parts  or  movements  ;  yet  that  machine 
was  set  up  in  the  mind  of  the  inventor  before  the  least 
of  its  parts  was  made.  You  do  not  comprehend  how 
that  can  be ;  but  every  insect  is  a  more  wonderful 
machine.  That  and  every  particular  of  all  the  multi- 
tudinous parts  of  creation  were  in  the  mind  of  God 
before  chaos  began  to  resolve  itself  into  order.     More 


174  Sermons. 

wonderful  still,  all  the  events  of  history  which  should 
take  place  in  the  movements  of  creation,  and  in  the 
action  of  the  unfettered  will  of  man,  were  clear  to  God 
before  Adam  appeared  in  Paradise.  Can  you  under- 
stand it?  'If  not,  you  can  at  least  understand  why  the 
utterances  of  revelation  should  sometimes  be  ob- 
scure, diverting  and  rebuking  the  curiosity  which 
would  be  baffled  in  the  end,  however  long  and  minute 
the  search  to  which  it  might  prompt. 

It  is  no  objection  to  say  that  if  God  speaks  to  us  in 
riddles  He  may  be  misunderstood.  Christ  was  mis- 
understood in  the  case  presented  by  our  text.  In 
consequence  of  His  saying,  "  If  I  will  that  he  tarry 
till  I  come,  what  is  that  to  thee  ?"  the  report  went  out 
among  the  disciples  that  John  would  never  die.  And 
so  strong  was  this  conviction  that,  after  his  decease, 
tradition  said  that  his  tomb  was  often  seen  to  tremble, 
moved  by  the  wavings  of  the  breath  of  the  buried 
but  still  living  apostle.  God  can  afford  to  be  misun- 
derstood as  to  that  which  it  is  not  for  us  to  know. 
He  has  taken  infinite  pains  to  be  understood  as  to  that 
which  it  is  important  for  us  to  know.  His  law  is  as 
clear  as  were  the  characters  in  which  it  was  engraved 
on  the  tables  of  stone.  His  promises  shine  like  the 
stars.  His  statements  of  the  way  of  salvation  through 
Christ  are  so  plain  that  he  who  runs  may  read.  His 
encouragements  to  faith  and  zeal  and   love   are   as 


"  Follozv  thou  Me  r  175 

simple  as  the  words  of  a  father  to  his  child.  If  God 
is  niisunderstood  as  to  what  puzzles  us  in  His  being, 
His  providences,  or  His  word,  it  is  because  curiosity 
busies  itself  with  the  puzzle  when  our  duty  is  to  let  it 
alone, — "  What  is  that  to  thee?" 

Here  then  is  our  practical  duty, — to  let  alone  what 
is  not  meant  for  us  to  know,  and  to  follow  Jesus.  To 
do  either  may  require  both  resolution  and  discipline. 
It  is  one  of  the  singular  marks  of  human  pride  that  just 
at  the  point  where  the  deepest  mystery  is  inevitable 
the  demand  is  loudest  for  clear  vision.  The  mysteries 
of  revelation  and  of  Providence  are  rejected  by  many 
minds  as  if  they  were  blots.  Nothing  can  be  accepted 
in  the  words  or  the  dealings  of  God  except  as  made 
comprehensible  to  the  understanding.  The  statement 
is  made  with  great  confidence.  God  would  never 
require  us  to  believe  what  we  cannot  understand,  or 
to  submit  to  what  is  unexplained.  And  what  is  the 
result  ?  As  to  the  word  of  God  it  is  this, — the  crit- 
ical axe  is  taken  into  the  beautiful  forest  of  revelation. 
As  God  has  given  the  forest  to  us,  it  is  full  of  life  and 
vigor.  Some  shadows  there  are  in  it, — shadow  is 
inseparable  from  sunlight.  The  shadows  add  to  the 
beauty  of  this  forest  and  heighten  its  brighter  tones. 
There  are  whispers  in  the  foliage  which  we  do  not 
perfectly  interpret ;  but  there  would  be  no  whispers 
were  it  not  for  the  living  stems  and  leaves.     By  the 


I  y^  Sermons. 

critical  axe  every  trunk  is  tested,  girdled  ;  many  a 
trunk  is  overthrown.  The  work  is  done.  Now  revela- 
tion is  declared  satisfactory;  all  is  clear  to  the  vision. 
You  can  see  every  inch  of  the  ground,  every  curve 
of  the  branches ;  all  is  definite ;  but  all  is  dead. 

As  to  the  providences  of  God,  the  result  is  this, — 
history,  as  God  has  woven  it  in  perfect  fabric,  is  pulled 
in  pieces.  Nothing  is  accepted  as  providential  which 
is  not  bright  and  fair.  The  silver  threads  and  gold 
threads  are  left  in  the  warp ;  the  dark  threads  of 
calamity  and  the  crimson  ones  of  war  and  the  purple 
ones  of  sorrow,  unexplained,  are  all  drawn  out ;  what 
man  is  responsible  for  and  what  God,  are  carefully 
separated,  and  when  the  fabric  is  submitted  for  our 
approval,  lo !  its  figures  are  all  gone.  Great  spaces 
are  left,  where,  to  be  sure,  the  light  shines  through. 
The  fabric  is  utterly  .spoiled,  and  all  candid  minds  are 
ready  to  say,  If  that  is  God's  weaving,  it  is  time  to 
roll  up  the  web  and  cut  it  from  the  loom. 

As  to  the  individual  indulging  sucii  foolish  pride, 
the  result  is  that  he  has  no  sooner  accomplished  his 
work  than  he  hastens  to  lay  his  pride  in  the  dust  by 
declaring  his  belief  in  numberless  facts  of  nature 
which  he  cannot  at  all  understand,  and  in  admittingf 
that  calamity  and  war  and  personal  sorrow  have  in 
countless  instances  forwarded  the  interests  of  man- 
kind and  proved  of  inestimable  benefit  to  the  soul. 


''  Folloiv  thou  Mc  f  177 

It  is  perhaps  harder  for  the  most  of  us  to  refrain 
from  the  indulgence  of  unwarranted  curiosity  in  per- 
sonal matters  than  in  those  which  pertain  to  abstract 
thought  or  principle.  We  may  not  be  troubled  at  all 
to  accept  the  mystery  of  the  Trinity,  or  of  the  incar- 
nation, or  of  the  life  which  is  hid  in  God  with  Christ, 
when  we  are  sorely  agitated  by  that  which  affects  our 
happiness  as  individuals  subject  to  the  inscrutable 
dealings  of  our  Heavenly  Father.  In  this  we  come 
into  sympathy  with  Peter,  who  believed  that  Christ 
was  divine,  and  that  in  His  death  and  resurrection 
are  life,  but  who  could  not  refrain  from  asking  what 
seemed  an  almost  trivial  question  respecting  his  com- 
panion, "  What  shall  this  man  do  ?"  It  is  very  eas)- 
to  ask  why,  if  one  accepts  all  that  the  Bible  says  in 
general,  it  should  be  difficult  to  apply  its  statements 
to  what  concerns  us  as  individuals  ;  why,  if  we  believe 
that  the  blood  of  Christ  cleanses  from  all  sin,  we 
should  vex  ourselves  with  the  inquiry  whether  a  par- 
ticular sin  of  our  own  can  be  pardoned ;  why,  if  we 
believe  that  not  a  sparrow  falls  without  our  Father, 
we  should  wonder  whether  He  notices  our  distress ; 
why,  if  we  use  for  the  benefit  of  others  the  promise, 
"  All  things  work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love 
Him,"  we  should  not  rely  upon  it  for  ourselves.  We 
have  no  reply  to  make  to  such  a  question,  but  under 

our  silence  the  fact  of  our  doubt  and  anxiety  remains. 

12 


178  Sermons. 

The  lips  are  mute,  but  the  heart  throbs  fevered  and 
restless.  We  turn  frorn  the  Scriptures  to  work  away 
at  the  problem  of  bread  for  our  families,  or  of  relief 
from  our  business  perplexities,  or  of  sustaining  exist- 
ence in  the  absence  of  the  love  whose  demonstrations 
death  has  quenched,  and  of  hopes  which  death  has 
extinguished.  Sometimes  we  get  into  such  distress 
over  these  problems,  especially  such  features  of  them 
as  cannot  be  affected  by  any  action  of  our  own,  that 
we  could  have  no  better  answer  to  our  prayers  for 
light  than  this,  "  What  is  that  to  thee  ?  Follow  thou 
Me !"  God  has  His  part  to  perform  in  our  affairs ; 
we  have  our  own.  We  perform  our  part  when,  in 
following  Christ,  we  make  use  of  our  faculties  as  He 
has  directed.  In  the  exercise  of  faith  we  are  to  leave 
God's  part  to  Him,  not  asking,  "  Is  He  going  to  do  it  ? 
Hozv  is  He  going  to  do  it?" — What  is  that  to  thee? 

Every  man  has  his  individual  life  to  lead.  In  fol- 
lowing Christ  he  is  to  make  his  own  footprints,  and 
they  will  be  characteristic  of  him  if  he  follows  natu- 
rally and  without  hesitation,  long  or  short,  deep  or 
shallow,  firm  or  light,  as  God  has  made  him.  We 
shall  escape  a  great  deal  of  trouble  in  this  world  if  we 
are  intent  only  on  this,  and  we  shall  get,  perhaps, 
many  things  which  we  did  not  count  upon.  "  Seek 
first  the  kingdom  of  God  and  His  righteousness,  and 
all  these  things  shall  be  added  unto  you." 


"  Follolu  thou  Mer 


1/9 


Of  all  unprofitable  exchanges  that  of  "borrowing 
trouble"  is  one  of  the  most.  One  would  think  it 
enough  to  have  an  ordinary  amount  of  such  capital. 
The  common  impulse  is  to  diminish  it  as  fast  as  pos- 
sible. Throw  it  away,  scatter  it,  lock  it  up,  bury  it 
out  of  sight  if  you  cannot  otherwise  dispose  of  it. 
That  is  the  general  advice.  And  it  is  curious  enough 
that  those  who  do  borrow  trouble  are  as  an.xious  to 
get  rid  of  as  they  are  ready  to  get  it.  They  take  it 
often  at  a  heavy  interest,  and  then  are  desirous  to  dis- 
pose of  it  on  any  terms.  Discipline  is  indeed  a  good 
thing,  and  God  makes  use  of  troubles  we  could  not 
avoid,  or  which  we  especially  deserve,  to  promote 
our  good.  To  borrow  trouble  is  a  work  of  superero- 
gation. It  is  like  the  hermit's  borrowing  sackcloth 
and  scourge  when  neither  will  be  of  any  benefit  to 
him.  It  is  like  putting  pebbles  in  your  shoes  when 
the  way  is  rough  enough  of  itself  If  your  heart  ever 
prompts  you  to  such  a  transaction  meet  it  with  the 
Saviour's  rebuke,  "What  is  that  to  thee?" 

Our  text  likewise  contains  a  rebuke  for  those  who 
are  inclined  to  measure  their  individual  experiences  or 
obligations  by  those  of  others.  Peter  very  likely  had 
a  lurking  desire  in  his  heart  to  know  how  the  fate  of 
John  would  compare  with  his  own.  He  was  to  perish 
by  violence ;  would  John  die  in  his  bed  ?  Perhaps,  if 
Christ  had  told  him,  he  would  have  sighed  a  little  at 


i8o  Sermons. 

the  contrast.  If  our  lives  are  individual  our  experi- 
ences must  be  peculiar.  God  has  this  for  you  in  fol- 
lowing Christ,  and  that  for  me.  Why  should  we 
look  at  each  other  and  say,  "  It  is  strange  that  there 
should  be  such  a  difference?"  We  can  scarcely  find 
it  in  our  hearts  to  reprove  a  young  man  who  has  been 
informed  that  an  incurable  malady  is  on  him  if  he 
thinks  of  some  companion  who  has  been  with  him  in 
all  his  boyhood's  sports  and  studies,  and  who  with 
cheek  yet  ruddy  is  pressing  on  to  the  achievement 
of  life's  ambitions,  and  wonders  why  the  blight  has 
not  come  on  him  ?  It  is  so  natural  that  any  of  us 
might  do  the  same,  but  he  would  be  happier  if  he 
could  wrest  his  thoughts  away  from  that  subject  with 
the  exclamation,  "  What  is  that  to  me  ?"  Peter  went 
sooner  than  John  to  glory,  and  with  the  crown  of  the 
martyr  on  his  brow.  So  as  to  all  the  experiences  of 
joy  or  sorrow.  The  constant  temptation  is  to  turn 
from  self  to  another.  "  Does  he  know  the  touch  of 
this  thrill  or  this  pang?  Is  he  exempt  from  what  I 
suffer?  Has  he  any  skeleton  in  his  closet?  What 
are  his  prospects  as  compared  with  mine  ?  Is  he 
successful  where  I  fail  ?  And  Christ  meets  that 
temptation  when  it  threatens  to  disturb  the  disciple's 
peace  with  "What  is  that  to  thee?  Follow  tlion 
Me !"  We  should  be  content,  even  with  our  peculiar- 
ities of  religious  experience,  though  we  have  not  the 


"  Follotv  thou  Me  r  i8i 

steadiness  of  John  on  the  one  hand,  or  the  blazing 
impulse  of  Peter  on  the  other,  if  in  our  own  way,  and 
in  accordance  with  the  key  to  what  God  has  sent  us, 
we  do  our  duty  in  following  Jesus. 

The  obligations,  too,  of  another  are  not  to  be  made 
a  test  of  our  own.  "  What  shall  this  man  do  ?"  does 
not  so  concern  us  that  we  are  to  allow  ourselves  to 
neglect  a  duty  because  he  neglects  it.  Perhaps  it  is 
not  his  duty  in  the  same  sense  that  it  is  yours.  Even 
were  it  more  his  duty  than  your  own,  his  neglect  is 
no  excuse  for  yours.  "  Follow  thou  Me !"  is  the  Sa- 
viour's command,  though  in  great  crowds  the  world 
drifts  away  in  other  paths  than  those  of  the  Lord.  It 
may  be  something  to  us,  as  charged  with  the  duty  of 
arousing  others  to  comprehend  and  meet  their  obli- 
gations, that  they  are  recreant  thereto.  It  may  be 
something  to  us,  as  commissioned  to  win  souls  to 
Christ,  yea,  to  pluck  them  as  brands  from  the  burn- 
ing, that  so  many  are  indifferent  to  Him,  enemies  of 
His  Cross.  It  is  nothing  to  us  as  excusing  our  halt- 
ing footsteps  in  our  Christian  career.  The  command 
is  as  particular  as  it  is  universal,  "  Follow  Me  !" 

It  may  be  very  natural  for  those  who  have  never 
begun  to  follow  Jesus  to  notice  the  feebleness  or  the 
straying  of  those  who,  having  begun,  do  not  seem 
to  keep  very  close  to  Jesus,  their  leader.  There  are 
too  many  cases  for  such  observation.     But,  oh,  thou 


1 82  Sermons. 

whose  duty  is  thine  own,  and  not  another's,  "  What 
is  that  to  thee  ?"  Though  but  one  of  a  thousand 
were  close  to  the  footsteps  of  our  Lord,  "  What  is 
that  to  thee  ?"  I  hear  the  call  of  the  Master ;  I  see 
His  glance  resting  on  thee.  At  this  moment  thou 
art  singled  out  from  all  the  world,  and  the  call  un- 
mistakably is,  ''Follow  thou  Me r 


IV. 

PAUL   AND    EPAPHRODITUS. 

"  For  indeed  he  was  sick  nigh  unto  death  :  Ijut  God  had  mercy  on 
him;  and  not  on  liim  only,  liut  on  me  also,  lest  I  should  have  sorrow 
upon  sorrow." — PuiLiPPlANS  il.  27. 

'TT^HE  writer  of  this  passage,  as  you  will  see  on 
^  turning  to  it,  was  Paul.  The  person  to  whom 
he  alludes  as  having  been  "  sick  nigh  unto  death"  was 
Epaphroditus,  whom  Paul  describes  as  his  "  brother 
and  companion  in  labor  and  fellow-soldier,"  a  mes- 
senger of  the  Philippian  Church  to  the  apostle,  and  he 
that  ministered  to  the  apostle's  wants. 

In  the  light  of  this  Scripture,  Paul  and  Epaphro- 
ditus stand  out  to  view  somewhat  as  a  mountain  and 
one  of  its  foot-hills, — both  of  similar  formation  and 
alike,  except  that  one  is  superior  to  the  other,  the 
lesser  seeming  an  attendant  upon  the  greater.  I 
invite  you  to  a  few  moments'  study  of  the  two  in 
their  relations.  We  will  get  as  near  to  them  as  we 
can.  You  would  scarcely  notice  Epaphroditus  with- 
out coming  close  to  him.  The  apostle  is  so  grand 
in    himself,    and    occupies    so    much    space    in    New 

Testament  history,  that  you  may  survey  him  from  a 

1 8-. 


1 84  Sermons. 

distance,  as  you  look  upon  Mount  Washington  from 
the  northward,  twenty  miles  away,  scarcely  noticing 
the  foot-hill  at  its  base.  Epaphroditus  is  so  little 
observed  by  casual  readers  of  the  New  Testament 
that  many  of  them  would  say  their  attention  has  never 
been  attracted  to  him  at  all. 

But  I  have  another  reason  for  bringing  you  close 
to  these  characters  of  sacred  history.  Paul  is  himself 
often  regarded  by  people,  looking  at  him  from  the 
distance,  as  stern  and  solid,  like  some  vast  pile  of  rock. 
His  greatness  is  conceded,  but  they  do  not  love  him 
much.  To  their  view  he  is  solemn,  majestic,  severe, 
often  cloud-capped  by  the  mysteries  in  which  he 
deals,  not  unfrequently  gathering  thunder-storms  in 
his  clefts.  When  you  get  close  to  a  mountain  you 
are  perhaps  more  than  ever  awed  by  its  sublimity, 
but  you  learn  that  it  is  not  all  sternness.  It  is  man- 
tled here  and  there  with  verdure,  every  twig  and  leaf 
instinct  with  a  warm  and  springing  life.  You  find  the 
softest  mosses  in  the  secluded  spots,  and  see  the  hare- 
bells ringing  their  silent  music  from  the  roughest 
edges  of  the  cliffs.  You  see  the  most  refreshing 
streams  breaking  out  from  the  most  secret  places  and 
at  the  most  unexpected  moments.  So  Paul  was  not 
the  less  a  man  because  he  was  an  apostle ;  nor  was 
he  without  the  tenderest  human  sympathies  because 
he  was  the  inspired  revealer  of  some  of  the  grandest 


Paul  and  Epaphvoditus.  185 

truths  of  Christianity.  God  made  it  his  duty  to  set 
forth  the  divine  sovereignty  in  such  a  way  as  to  exalt 
the  great  King  of  the  universe,  and  human  sinfulness 
in  such  a  way  as  to  humiliate  the  best  of  men  ;  but 
we  do  him  great  injustice  if,  when  we  have  read  what 
he  has  to  say  on  these  points,  we  forget  what  else  he 
has  to  say,  and  associate  him  in  our  thoughts  only 
with  what  may  seem,  as  we  look  at  it,  gloomy  and  for- 
bidding. Come  close  to  him ;  see  how  full  his  heart 
is  of  thoughts  of  beauty  and  of  the  springs  of  love, 
and  you  will  confess  that  you  had  not  understood 
him  whilst  you  looked  at  him  without  wishing  to 
draw  near.  Listen  to  the  text  if  you  would  see  how 
with  all  his  lofty  conceptions  he  was  capable  of  just 
such  feeling  and  just  such  words  as  you  might  be 
when  full  of  grateful  love  at  the  restoration  of  a  friend 
whom  you  would  not  lose.  "  God  had  mercy  on  him, 
and  not  on  him  only,  but  on  me  also,  lest  I  should 
have  sorrow  upon  sorrow." 

This,  then,  is  our  first  lesson  from  this  beautiful  and 
intensely  human  passage, — tJie  consistency  of  tender- 
ness %vit]i  pozver — of  Jiunian  love  tvith  Christian  heroism. 
Paul,  the  apostle,  seems  capable  of  anything  within 
the  limits  of  hunlan  endurance.  He  had  a  loftier  than 
human  boldness  and  courage.  It  was  immaterial  to 
him  in  the  discharge  of  duty  whether  he  faced  the 
mob  at  Ephesus  or  the  king  on  his  throne.     He  was 


1 86  Sermons. 

equally  calm  and  strong  in  the  dungeon   at  Philippi 
and  in  the  day  and   night  of  storm  on  the  deep ;  yet 
at  times  he  betrays  the  utmost  sensitiveness  of  feeling. 
He  could  stand  up  against  the  malice  of  his  enemies 
as  if  a  corselet  of  triple   steel  were  over  his  breast ; 
but  he  could  not  bear  even  to  be  misunderstood  by 
his  friends.      He  talks  of  perils  as  if  it  were  unmanly 
to  shrink   from    them,  and  speaks  of  tears   as   if   he 
knew  what  they  were  and  was  not  ashamed  to  shed 
them.     He  says  at  one  moment,  "  I  told  you  before, 
and  foretell  you  as  if  I  were  present  the  second  time, 
that  if  I  come  again  I  will  not  spare ;"  but  at  another, 
in  the  same  letter,  "  I  beseech  you  by  the  meekness 
and  gentleness  of  Christ ;"    "  I  will  very  gladly  spend 
and  be  spent  for  you,  though  the  more  abundantly  I 
love  you,  the  less  I  be  loved."     The  touching  preface 
to  the  ninth  chapter  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans,  of 
which  so  many  have  complained  as  if  it  made  God 
worse  than  an  iron  fate,  is,  "  I  say  the  truth  in  Christ, 
I   lie  not,  my  conscience  also  bearing  me  witness  in 
the  Holy  Ghost,  that  I  have  great  heaviness  and  con- 
tinual   sorrow    in     my  heart ;    for  I   could  wish   that 
myself  were  accursed   from   Christ   for   my  brethren, 
my  kinsmen,  according  to  the   flesh."      This  whole 
epistle,  indeed,  is    as   full   of  human  tenderness  and 
sympathy  as  it  is  of  truth,  which,  however  unpalat- 
able, is  of  the  last  importance  to  the  soul.     Epaphro- 


Paid  and  EpapJiroditus.  187 

ditus  was  like  the  apostle  in  his  spirit  of  heroic 
self-sacrifice.  The  sickness  from  which  God  delivered 
him  was  brought  on  by  his  Christian  devotion;  "  be- 
cause," says  Paul,  "  for  the  work  of  Christ  he  was 
nigh  unto  death,  not  regarding  his  life  to  supply  your 
lack  of  service  towards  me."  Yet  he  too  was  so 
tender  in  his  love  for  those  who  had  sent  him  to  Paul, 
that  he  could  not  be  satisfied  without  going  back  to 
them  and  assuring  them  by  his  presence  that  he  was 
himself  again  ;  and  Paul  sent  him,  as  he  says,  "  the 
more  carefully  that,  when  ye  see  him  again,  ye  may 
rejoice  and  I  may  be  the  less  sorrowful." 

No  doubt  grace  had  much  to  do  with  this  develop- 
ment of  mingled  tenderness  and  power  in  the  two 
disciples  of  the  Lord.  As  a  matter  of  temperament, 
we  often  find  such  qualities  of  character  dissociated. 
The  old  Greeks  married  Vulcan  and  Venus,  as  if  it 
were  impossible  to  unite  what  are  called  manly  and 
womanly  qualities  except  as  they  are  brought  to- 
gether in  distinct  personalities.  Generally  speaking, 
we  do  not  expect  a  man  of  strong  nature  to  show  the 
more  delicate  sensibilities,  or  one  of  great  natural 
refinement  to  display  much  boldness,  or  strike  as 
Vulcan  did  when  he  had  the  thunderbolts  of  Jove  on 
his  anvil.  But  Christianity  favors  the  development 
of  these  qualities  in  the  same  individual.  They  cer- 
tainly   co-existed    in    that    faultless    embodiment    of 


1 88  Sermons. 

Christian  virtues,  our  blessed  Lord,  and  we  are  en- 
couraged to  expect  to  find  them,  in  various  degrees, 
in  the  character  of  the  disciple.  Tenderness  is  not 
less  godlike  than  is  power.  Consecration  with  faith 
in  it  tends  to  make  a  man  bold  and  strong  in  that 
aggressive  work  to  accomplish  which  he  requires 
heroism ;  but  consecration  with  love  in  it  tends  to 
make  a  man  sympathetic  and  kindly  in  all  his  rela- 
tions to  his  fellows,  valuing  and  responding  to  human 
affection,  as  well  as  to  that  which  has  little  of  the 
human  in  it.  If  Christianity  does  not  make  of  you  a 
better  earthly  friend,  it  fails  as  truly  as  it  does  if  it 
does  not  make  of  you  a  more  vigorous  servant  of 
God.  Christianity  was  meant  for  this  life  as  much  as 
for  the  next  life.  I  may  say,  indeed,  that  we  are  not 
fitted  for  the  next  life  except  as  we  are  what  will  ren- 
der us  happiest  and  most  useful  in  earthly  relations  ; 
for  we  are  to  carry  human  natures  and  human  mem- 
ories over  into  eternity.  I  cannot  but  think  that 
society  in  heaven  corresponds  to  society  on  earth, 
except  so  far  as  sin  is  here  and  only  holiness  there. 
No  sympathy  is  called  for  in  heaven  over  human  woe, 
because  such  woe  is  sin's  shadow ;  but  I  cannot  be- 
lieve that  in  heaven  there  are  no  human  fellowships, — 
can  you  ?  I  cannot  believe  that  in  the  heavenly  city 
there  are  no  pleasant  recognitions  as  the  multitudes 
move  to  and  fro, — can  you  ?     I  cannot  believe  that  in 


Paul  and  Epapliroditns.  189 

heaven  there  are  no  quiet,  nay,  no  rapturous  com- 
munings of  hearts  still  human  though  there  sin- 
less,— can  you  ?  I  do  not  wonder  that  a  mother  who 
had  lost  her  child  in  infancy,  and  was  told  that  be- 
cause the  child  was  never  baptized  it  could  not  get  to 
heaven,  replied,  "  Then  I  do  not  wish  to  go  there :  I 
want  my  child."  She  spoke  out  of  a  mother's  heart, 
and  as  God  had  made  her  to  speak.  Human  long- 
ings, human  loves,  when  not  sinful,  are  eternal.  In- 
dulge them  in  the  spirit  of  Christianity  now,  and  you 
shall  be  best  fitted  to  indulge  them  hereafter.  Earth 
and  heaven  are  like  island  and  mainland.  Crossing 
the  intervening  sea  does  not  destroy  our  identity. 
Time  is  a  circle  drawn  on  the  face  of  eternity.  Get- 
ting out  of  the  circle  is  not  getting  out  of  ourselves. 
Paul  and  Epaphroditus,  I  doubt  not,  are  all  the  more 
dear  to  each  other  in  heaven  because  of  their  earthly 
relations  ;  they  are  all  the  more  beloved  because  on 
earth  they  grew  together  in  tenderness  and  power. 

A  second  lesson,  derived  from  what  we  know  of 
their  earthly  relations,  is  the  consistency  of  submissioyi 
to  affliction  and  a  desire  to  escape  it.  One  would 
almost  think,  to  read  some  passages  of  Paul's  writ- 
ings, that  he  supposed  a  man  ought  never  to  resist 
his  trials,  that  he  ought  not  to  try  to  keep  himself 
out  of  the  way  of  trouble.  He  speaks  so  frequently 
of  the  benefits  of  sorrow,  he  hangs  up  before  us  such 


190  Sen  no  71  s. 

a  mighty  balance,  in  one  scale  of  which  are  the  dusky- 
grains  of  trial,  in  the  other  the  shining  mass,  the  far 
more  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glory ;  he  says 
so  emphatically,  "  we  glory  in  tribulations,"  that  one 
would  suppose  he  never  cared  to  escape  from  trouble, 
but  courted  it  rather.  Yet  here  we  find  him  appar- 
ently just  as  anxious  to  avoid  it  as  any  one  not 
having  such  views  of  trial  might  be.  He  thanks 
God  as  fervently  for  restoring  Epaphroditus  as  if  his 
loss  would  only  have  been  an  unmitigated  calamity. 
"  God  had  mercy  on  him,  and  not  on  him  only,  but 
on  me  also,  lest  I  should  have  sorrow  upon  sorrow." 
Epaphroditus,  too,  rejoiced  in  his  own  restoration  as 
truly  as  if,  had  he  died  in  his-  illness,  he  would  not 
have  departed  to  be  forever  with  the  Lord.  Were 
they  inconsistent  in  this  ?  Not  at  all.  To  avoid  trial, 
to  escape  from  trouble,  to  pray  against  it  is  human 
instinct,  and  that  instinct  was  given  us  by  God ;  that 
instinct  is  equivalent  to  a  law  of  God,  in  obedience  to 
which  it  is  duty  to  guard  ourselves  from  affliction  in 
every  possible  way.  Submission  to  trials  which  we 
cannot  avoid  is,  if  I  may  so  express  it,  a  secondary 
law,  a  kind  of  law  of  limitation.  God  sees  that  it 
is  best  for  us  sometimes  to  suffer,  and  in  view  of  that 
requires  us  to  be  submissive  to  what  we  cannot  help. 
Take  an  analogy  out  of  your  own  household.  You 
teach  your  children  to  avoid  all  kinds  of  danger,  to 


Paul  and  EpapJiroditiis.  191 

keep  out  of  harm's  way,  both  physically  and  morally. 
You  blame  them  if  they  unnecessarily  involve  them- 
selves in  difficulty  ;  yet  you  sometimes  put  them  into 
difficulty  for  their  good.  You  afflict  them  by  with- 
holding what  they  desire,  or  by  taking  away  what 
they  have  set  their  hearts  on;  you  discipline  them 
by  task  or  by  stroke,  and  you  expect  them  to  be  sub- 
missive under  such  training.  You  never  dream  of 
inconsistency  in  these  methods,  nor  should  you 
dream  of  it  over  these  contrasted  yet  harmonizing 
laws  of  God. 

The  truth  is  we  are  just  as  responsible  for  suffering 
more  than  we  need  to  as  we  are  for  murmuring  when 
we  suffer  what  we  cannot  avoid.  Paul's  cheerino- 
words  for  the  sorrowful  are  intended  for  use  when  sor- 
row must  be  borne.  The  very  tribulations  in  which 
he  gloried  he  would  not  have  assumed  of  himself 
He  had  no  right  to  glory  in  what  it  was  not  plainly 
the  will  of  God  for  him  to  bear.  We  are  not  to  o-q 
about  the  world  looking  for  crosses,  although  the 
cross  may  be  the  price  of  the  crown.  Get  through 
this  life  with  as  little  sorrow  as  you  can;  study  to 
make  it  cheerful  and  happy.  Turn  round  with  the 
globe  from  night  to  night,  but  keeping  your  back  to 
the  shadows  and  your  face  to  the  sun.  Not  selfishly, 
not  sinfully,  for  if  you  are  selfishly  bent  on  ease  and 
happiness  you  will   be   untrue  to  God  and   man,  and 


192  Sermo7is. 

you  will  thereby  only  prepare  for  yourself  a  suffering 
which  will  come  by  and  by.  Thank  God  when  He 
delivers  you  from  troubles  you  have  feared,  and  you 
will  be  most  likely  to  thank  Him  when  He  does  not 
see  fit  to  deliver  you.  Escape  what  trouble  you  can, 
and  you  will  most  clearly  see  the  hand  of  God  in  that 
which  must  be  borne. 

Herein  also  we  have  a  rule  for  the  regulation  of 
our  sympathy  with  others  in  view  of  their  troubles. 
So  far  as  these  troubles  are  real  and  unavoidable,  we 
should  look  on  them  with  pity  and  attempt  to  alle- 
viate them  by  every  consolation.  So  far  as  they  are 
imaginary  or  unnecessary,  they  do  not  call  for  sym- 
pathy so  much  as  for  the  cheerful  word  or  the  ready 
hand  which  may  banish  them  altogether.  In  one 
sense  everything  which  occurs  is  in  the  providence 
of  God  ;  but  in  another  sense  a  distinction  is  to  be 
made  between  what  Providence  ordains  and  what 
man  brings  to  pass.  If  a  person  heedlessly  squan- 
ders what  God  has  given  him,  and  so  comes  to  want; 
if  he  ruins  his  constitution  by  self-indulgence,  and  so 
becomes  a  hopeless  invalid  ;  if  he  culpably  neglects 
to  send  for  a  physician  when  a  member  of  his  family 
is  sick,  and  so  is  whelmed  in  a  grief  he  might  have 
forestalled,  we  may  pity  him,  but  our  sympathy  will 
be  somewhat  different  in  its  quality  from  that  we  feel 
for  those  who,  seeking  to  obey  God's  laws  of  preser- 


Paid  and  EpapJirodiUis.  193 

vation,  have  yet  learned  that  His  will  is  superior  to 
that  law. 

Is  not  he  a  better  friend  who  teaches  a  neighbor, 
whose  flocks  the  wolves  have  invaded,  to  mend  the 
gaps  which  have  been  carelessly  left  in  the  sheepfold 
than  he  who  tries  to  comfort  him  without  alluding  to 
the  gaps?  I  do  not  know  that  Epaphroditus  did  not 
need  a  little  wholesome  chiding  for  his  overwork. 
Very  likely  he  thought  he  was  doing  only  what  was 
necessary  when  he  regarded  not  his  own  life  in  his 
devotion  to  the  apostle.  If  so  we  can  forgive  his  un- 
conscious transgression  and  admire  his  self-sacrifice ; 
but  we  would  not  quote  his  example  in  sustaining 
those  in  disregard  of  the  laws  of  health  and  life,  who 
have  no  such  reason  for  the  transgression.  There  is 
many  a  man  and  woman  in  this  land,  and  in  the  stim- 
ulating atmosphere  of  American  society,  whose  busy 
hand  I  would  stay  if  possible  from  what  seems  to  me 
the  digging  of  an  early  grave,  the  weaving  of  a  pre- 
mature shroud. 

Yet,  accepting  the  self-sacrifice  of  Epaphroditus  for 
what  it  was  doubtless  meant  to  be,  we  come  to  an- 
other lesson  in  our  Scripture,  an  unselfish  devotion  as 
a  means  of  love. 

It  is  beautiful  to  see  what  a  network  of  affection 
was  woven  between  the  hearts  of  Paul  and  Epaphro- 
ditus.    They  were  not  ordinary  friends.     Their  love 


194  Sermons. 

for  each  other  had  stronger  fibres  in  it  than  those  of 
admiration  or  esteem  or  of  personal  affinity.  It  was 
a  self-forgetting,  self-sacrificing  love.  When  Paul 
came  in  to  the  bedside  of  his  sick  brother  and  com- 
panion in  labor,  he  thought  how  that  feeble  hand  had 
lost  its  strength  in  ministering  to  him  ;  how  that  help- 
less figure  was  wasted  by  activities  in  behalf  of  the 
church  which  were  too  impatient  of  rest.  One  day, 
perhaps,  the  attendants  said  he  was  dying.  Then  we 
may  imagine  how  the  heart  of  the  apostle  went  out 
in  prayer  that  he  whom  he  so  greatly  loved  might  be 
spared.  And  when  the  pulse  came  again,  fuller,  softer, 
slower,  we  may  imagine  the  thanksgivings  which 
welled  out  in  mingled  words  and  tears.  Human 
friendships  like  this  are  sacred,  for  the  words  sacred 
and  sacrifice  come  from  the  same  root.  Two  persons 
sometimes  love  each  other  with  a  passion  which  is 
like  a  fever.  They  wonder  if  such  love  ever  burned 
before ;  yet  after  the  passion  is  cooled  they  wonder 
if  they  ever  really  loved  each  other  at  all.  For  the 
highest  kind  of  love  self-devotion  is  necessary ;  for 
the  very  highest  that  self-devotion  must  be  religious. 
The  affections  may  be  sanctified  by  grace  as  well  as 
the  will,  and  when  thus  sanctified  they  are  not  only 
purer  but  also  stronger.  Then  love  is  doubly  sacred, — 
it  is  devoted  and  it  is  holy.  The  love  of  Epaphrodi- 
tus  for  the  Philippians,  as  well  as  for  Paul,  was  of  this 


Paul  and  Epaphroditns.  195 

sort.  He  went  as  their  messenger  to  the  apostle.  He 
went  to  represent  them,  to  do  their  work.  He  knew 
that  they  loved  him  for  this,  and  whatever  he  did  in 
their  behalf  increased  his  love  for  them  ;  for  self-de- 
votion makes  us  love  those  whom  we  serve,  whilst  it 
increases  their  love  for  us.  This  is  the  .Secret  of  the 
homesickness  for  Philippi  which  set  in  as  his  physi- 
cal illness  was  subdued.  He  longed  after  his  friends 
and  was  full  of  heaviness.  How  thoroughly  human 
this  whole  story,  and  how  pleasant  to  see  the  readi- 
ness with  which  Paul  sent  him  home  as  soon  as  he 
could  travel,  that  his  heart  and  theirs  might  be  grati- 
fied. We  can  fancy  some  cold  critic  objecting  to  this, 
declaring  that  such  weakness  was  unworthy  of  a  con- 
secrated man ;  that  if  Epaphroditus  was  of  such 
value  to  Paul  before  this  illness,  he  would  be  of  just 
as  much  service  afterward ;  that  he  ought  to  have 
remained  at  Rome  and  stifled  his  homesickness  by 
hard  work  for  Christ.  I  am  glad  Paul  did  not  think 
so.  Religion  seems  more  than  ever,  when  I  read  this 
passage,  a  thing  for  common  life,  taking  man  as  he  is. 
I  cannot  believe  that  Epaphroditus  was  less  useful  or 
less  self-sacrificing  during  the  remainder  of  his  days 
for  going  back  to  the  Philippians;  nor,  though  Paul 
never  saw  his  face  again,  can  I  believe  that  he  loved 
him  less,  or  ceased  to  remember  how  he  ministered 
to  him  in  his  bonds. 


196  Sermons. 

What  a  greeting  the  returning  messenger  must 
have  anticipated  as  he  sailed  on  his  homeward  voy- 
age !  Arriving  at  the  port  of  Neapolis,  he  took  his 
way  up  the  steep  path  which  crosses  the  mountain 
behind  which  the  dear  city  lay.  At  the  summit  of 
the  pass  he  pauses  to  look  upon  the  town  below. 
How  much  more  beautiful  its  walls,  how  much  more 
smiling  the  surrounding  plain,  how  much  pleasanter 
to  him  the  sweep  of  the  environing  hills  because  of 
the  contrast  they  present  to  the  Roman  prison  he  has 
left  behind,  and  because  of  the  high  devotion  which 
has  sanctified  his  protracted  absence.  What  a  greet- 
ing he  must  have  received  as,  entering  the  city,  friends 
and  kinsmen  gathered  round  him  with  demonstrations 
of  affection  such  as  he  can  never  have  who  gives  up 
nothing  for  love !  That  first  prayer-meeting  of  the 
disciples  at  which  he  told  his  story  must  have  been 
worth  attending.  As  he  looked  on  beaming  face  and 
tearful  eye,  as  he  heard  the  prayers  and  thanksgiv- 
ings offered  in  view  of  his  restoration  and  return,  as, 
when  the  meeting  ended,  he  found  himself  the  per- 
sonal subject  of  every  form  of  oriental  salutation  and 
welcome,  he  must  have  felt  that  he  had  not  paid  too 
much  for  what  so  few  are  privileged  to  have. 

So  few !  But  that,  after  all,  is  because  so  few  are 
willing  to  make  such  sacrifices  for  love.  Every  one 
can  have  in   substance  what  he  enjoyed,  if  not  pre- 


Paul  and  Epapliroditns.  197 

cisely  in  form.  His  mission  was  peculiar,  but  none 
of  us  need  be  at  a  loss  for  a  mission  the  results  of 
Avhich  will  be  love  received  and  love  returned.  What 
we  do  in  the  spirit  of  self-devotion  need  not  be  con- 
spicuous. Possibly  some  of  those  Philippian  Chris- 
tians, who  saw  what  honors  of  the  heart  were  lavished 
upon  Epaphroditus,  half  envied  him  and  wished  that 
they  could  have  had  some  great  opportunity  to  be 
identified  as  he  was  with  the  revered  apostle  and  with 
the  work  of  Christ,  without  reflecting  that  if  they 
would  be  as  devoted  to  the  friends  about  them  and  to 
the  church  in  which  they  lived  they  would  get  a  like 
reward.  What  is  the  work  of  Christ  if  it  be  not 
making  the  person  next  you  happy,  as  well  as  by 
helping  some  great  man  in  bonds?  What  is  it  if  it 
be  not  surrendering  time,  money,  self  for  the  good 
of  souls  close  by,  and  for  the  strengthening  of  the 
church  where  God  in  His  providence  has  put  you  ? 
If  you  wish  to  love  and  be  loved  with  a  sacred  affec- 
tion, go  out  of  yourself  rigJit  here :  you  shall  not  be 
disappointed. 

For  myself,  I  feel  like  drawing  a  mark  in  my  Bible 
against  this  paragraph,  as  one  of  those  precious  pas- 
sages to  which  one  loves  again  and  again  to  turn.  It 
is  not  one  of  the  grandest  or  of  the  most  stirring, 
but  it  gives  a  nameless  charm  to  religion  as  a  thing 
for  everyday  duty  and  everyday  wear.      It  teaches 


198  Sermons. 

me  to  be  tender  as  well  as  strong,  to  keep  out  of 
trouble  as  well  as  bear  it,  to  pay  the  price  of  love  if 
I  would  have  its  sweeter  joys.  It  brings  me  closer 
than  ever  to  those  by  whom  God  has  surrounded  me 
here,  whom  it  is  as  much  my  privilege  to  love  as  it  is 
my  duty  to  serve;  whom  I  shall  love  all  the  more  the 
more  I  do  for  them,  and  who  because  of  my  devotion 
will  have  an  affection  for  me  which  is  something 
more  than  a  sentiment.  It  makes  heaven's  glory 
seem  so  much  like  common  daylight  that  no  one 
need  be  afraid  of  it,  superior  as  it  is  in  purity  and  in 
radiance. 

Take  in  the  spirit  of  this  passage,  my  hearers,  and 
you  will  be  content  to  live,  content  to  die.  Living  or 
dying  you  shall  not  want  for  love.  Living,  you  shall 
be  cheerful,  though  not  without  trial ;  dying,  you 
shall  be  happy  in  the  conviction  that  sojiie  at  least 
will  not  forget  you,  and  will  want  to  see  you  again. 


V. 

UNDERTONES    IN   THE    LIFE   OF   CHRIST. 

"  And  they  understood  not  the  saying  which  He  spake  unto  them." 
— Luke  ii.  50. 

NO  wonder !  For  this  was  a  strange  child  who 
was  found  at  the  age  of  twelve  "  in  the  tem- 
ple, sitting  in  the  midst  of  the  doctors,  both  hearing 
them  and  asking  them  questions."  The  doctors 
thought  Him  a  strange  boy,  for  they  were  "  aston- 
ished at  His  understanding  and  His  answers,"  and 
the  most  surprising  thing  He  said  was  the  last,  when 
Mary  and  Joseph  reproved  Him  for  lingering  behind 
after  their  caravan  had  started  for  home, — "  How  is 
it  that  ye  sought  me  ?  Wist  ye  not  that  I  must  be 
about  my  Father's  business  ?"  This  boy  had  a  spir- 
itual insight  which  puzzled  the  doctors,  and  a  con- 
sciousness of  His  mission  which  even  those  who 
knew  His  supernatural  origin  could  not  comprehend. 
This  consciousness  was  enough  of  itself  to  set  off  the 
then  youthful  Christ  as  different  from  any  child 
whom  it  would  be  possible  to  find  in  Judea.  The 
same  consciousness  was  doubtless   retained  through 

all  the  period  of  His   growth   in   Nazareth,  and  was 

199 


200  Sermons. 

never  for  a  moment  obscured  during  the  period  of 
His  public  ministry.  It  was  one  of  those  undertones 
of  His  life  which  so  often  arrest  our  attention,  and 
which  give  so  much  significance  to  His  whole  his- 
tory. 

It  is  to  the  study  of  these  undertones  that  I  invite 
your  present  attention. 

The  upper  tones  of  Christ's  life  are  those  which 
first  attract  notice,  like  the  air  in  a  piece  of  music, — 
His  works,  His  words.  His  travels  from  place  to 
place,  all  that  ordinarily  constitutes  a  biography. 
The  undertones  are  more  obscure  and  more  pro- 
found, yet  form  the  base  on  which  the  upper  tones 
play,  and  which  harmonize  and  give  the  upper  tones 
their  chief  significance.  In  studying  these  we  study 
the  nature  and  the  character  of  Christ.  We  cannot 
hope  to  understand  them  fully,  but  we  may  at  least 
obtain  impressions  of  them  which  will  enable  us  to 
appreciate  in  some  degree  what  Christ  was,  and  what 
He  may  be  to  us. 

I.  We  may  begin  with  what,  for  want  of  a  better 
word,  I  may  term  the  natural  undertones  ;  that  is, 
those  which  belonged  to  Him  as  a  man,  and  which 
may  be  at  once  detected,  even  if  we  do  not  think  of 
Him  as  the  Son  of  God. 

One  of  them  is  His  deep  sympathy  with  the  natu- 
ral   world, — this    world    of   form    and    color,  of  sky 


Undertones  in  the  Life  of  Christ.  201 

and  water,  of  hills  and  valleys,  of  cornfields  and  pas- 
tures. He  was  evidently  a  great  lover  of  nature  ;  His 
discourses  were  embroidered  with  figures  drawn  from 
this  source.  His  going  into  the  mountains  to  pray, 
His  preaching  on  a  hillside,  or  from  a  boat  moored 
to  the  shore,  indicated  His  sympathy  with  Nature. 
His  selection  of  Gethsemane  with  its  sombre  shades 
as  the  scene  of  His  agony  of  soul  showed  the  same 
instinctive  feeling.  The  spirit  within  appears  to  have 
been  attuned  as  never  before  to  the  world  without. 

Next  we  notice  His  sympathy  with  human  life  in 
its  moods  and  phases,  the  lighter  as  well  as  the 
graver.  He  was  a  man  of  sorrows,  but  also  of  joys. 
Even  the  passing  gleams  of  human  happiness  were 
reflected  from  His  soul.  He  stopped  when  walking 
through  the  market-place,  the  children  at  play,  and 
smiled,  we  may  presume,  as  He  heard  the  brighter 
ones  say  to  the  duller,  "We  have  piped  unto  you, 
and  ye  have  not  danced;  we  have  mourned  unto  you, 
and  ye  have  not  lamented."  He  was  jjleased  when 
He  heard  the  children  catch  up  and  re-echo  the  ho- 
sannas  of  the  mature  in  the  temple.  He  was  always 
tender  to  the  little  ones.  He  went  to  the  marriage 
feast  in  Cana  of  Galilee,  as  if  to  sanction  human  joys, 
at  the  outset  of  His  ministry.  He  went  deeper  into 
the  complications  of  human  life  when  He  discoursed 
with  the  woman  of  Samaria  at  the  well ;  still  deeper 


202  Sermons. 

when,  in  the  house  of  Simon  the  Pharisee,  He  set 
the  hollow  courtesy  of  the  host  in  contrast  with  the 
sincere  love  of  the  sinful  woman  who  washed  His  feet 
with  her  tears  ;  deeper  yet  when  he  unmasked  the 
trickery  of  His  enemies,  and  at  the  sam_e  time  de- 
clared forgiveness  to  one  whom  they  dragged  to  Him 
as  worthy  of  death  by  stoning.  Not  a  chord  could 
be  struck  in  the  whole  range  of  human  experiences 
to  which  He  was  not  sensitive.  It  required  a  large,  a 
perfect  nature  to  be  capable  of  this ;  but  we  must  not 
overlook  the  fact  that  it  was  characteristic  of  Christ, 
if  we  would  form  a  true  conception  of  Him. 
■  Next,  and  closely  associated  with  this,  was  an  abso- 
lute unselfishness, — not  an  occasional  or  a  graduated, 
but  a  perfect  and  constant  unselfishness,  which  ren- 
dered Him  quick  to  enter  into  the  moods  of  others, 
that  He  might  be  of  use  to  them.  Selfishness  pre- 
vents our  coming  into  thorough  sympathy  with  others, 
as  much  as  it  prevents  our  helping  them  when  we 
understand  their  wants.  We  are  afraid  to  touch 
people  where  the  touch  is  most  vital,  lest  they  should 
require  too  much  of  us  ;  or  we  are  too  much  occupied 
with  our  own  concerns  to  trouble  ourselves  to  come 
very  close  to  those  who  stand  near  by,  waiting  and 
wanting.  Christ  never  was.  His  heart  was  open  on 
all  sides,  and  always  ready  for  the  necessary  outgo. 
A  few  of   us   have  this   unselfish   love   of    others  bv 


Undertones  in  the  Life  of  Christ.  20- 

nature,  and  more  yet  by  grace,— this  subtile  capability 
of  harmonizing  with  the  moods  of  others,  and  thu^ 
helping  them,  first  by  sympathy,  then  by  an  appro- 
priate ministry.  Christ  had  it  in  perfection.  We  call 
it  a  natural  quality  in  Him  only  because  His  nature 
was  perfect.  Would  it  not  be  better  for  the  world  if 
we  were  to  cultivate,  so  far  as  possible,  this  undertone 
in  our  own  lives  ?  Somebody  wants  something  from 
each  one  of  us  which,  possibly,  we  may  at  this  mo- 
ment be  too  selfish  to  give. 

n.   Passing  now  to  the  moral  undertones  of  Christ's 
life,  we  notice  first  His  wonderful  conscience. 

Conscience  belongs  to  all  moral  beings,  God  in- 
cluded. It  is  a  faculty  which  discerns  right  and 
wrong,  discriminates  between  them,  as  day  is  dis- 
criminated from  night.  When  perfect  it  detects  all 
the  shades  of  wrong,  as  the  healthy  eye  detects  the 
graduations  of  shadow  and  marks  the  stages  of 
twilight.  Conscience  also  approves  the  right  and 
condemns  the  wrong.  In  the  conscience  which  is 
spiritually  sound  the  right  is  approved  with  positive 
pleasure,  the  wrong  is  disapproved  with  positive  ab- 
horrence; hence  it  is  by  no  means  necessary  that  a 
being  should  be  sinful  to  have  a  conscience.  On  the 
contrary,  the  more  sinful  a  being  is  the  more  likely  is 
he  to  possess  a  conscience  which  is  dim  and  unre- 
liable.    The  voice  of  conscience  gives  an   undertone 


204  Sermons. 

to  your  life  and  to  mine.  In  either  case  it  is  compar- 
atively faint,  because  it  is  in  some  degree  perverted 
by  sin.  In  Christ's  life  it  was  an  undertone  so  deep 
and  unwavering  that  it  was  like  a  current  in  the  sea. 
Christ  was  never  troubled,  as  we  are,  by  a  guilty  con- 
science. We  must  think  of  Him  as  only  human  if 
we  say  He  was  sustained  by  a  good  conscience  ;  for 
that  word  sustain  implies  weakness.  Christ,  as  divine, 
needed  no  sustaining;  for,  as  such,  He  was  never 
weak;  He  needed  no  support.  His  conscience  was 
exercised  mainly  in  view  of  right  and  wrong  in  other.*^, 
or  of  right  and  wrong  as  the  basis  of  a  rule  of  action. 
In  this  exercise  His  discriminations  were  wonderful. 
Thus  conscience  gave  tone  to  every  precept  He  ut- 
tered, to  every  act  He  performed,  to  every  rebuke 
which  fell  from  His  lips.  Conscience  underlies  every 
word  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount ;  it  regulated 
Christ's  conduct  when  His  acts  were  condemned  as 
inconsistent  with  the  Mosaic  law,  as,  e.g.,  when  He 
rubbed  out  the  ears  of  corn  in  His  hand  on  the  Sab- 
bath ;  it  made  His  step  firm  when  He  went  in  to  eat 
with  publicans  and  sinners ;  it  gave  nerve  to  His  arm 
when  He  drove  the  traders  from  the  temple;  it  thun- 
dered in  His  words  when  He  denounced  the  Phar- 
isees and  smote  them  with  the  flash  of  those  seven 
deserved  woes.  Yet,  again,  it  distilled  like  the  dew  in 
such  commendations  as  He  gave  to  the  poor  widow 


Undertojies  in  the  Life  of  CJirist.  205 

wlio  dropped  into  the  treasury  the  two  mites  which 
make  a  farthing.  If  He  was  sometimes  indignant,  He 
was  never  more  so  than  right  demanded  ;  if  He  often 
incurred  criticism  for  seemingly  strange  conduct,  it 
was  because,  if  obedient  to  conscience,  He  could  not 
do  otherwise.  If  He  spoke  in  parables  of  great  gulfs 
and  tormenting  flames,  it  was  because  the  claims  of 
justice  suggested  the  picture.  If  he  sketched  the 
house  of  many  mansions,  it  was  because  that  is  the 
fitting  abode  of  the  holy.  Yes,  that  was  a  wonderful 
conscience  which  made  Christ  everywhere  and  always 
the  exact  representative  of  that  which  is  right  and  true, 
the  unflinching  enemy  of  that  which  is  false  and  wrong. 
Another  of  the  moral  undertones  of  His  life  was 
confidence  in  His  mission.  He  knew  precisely  what 
that  mission  was.  He  properly  estimated  its  signifi- 
cance ;  He  was  certain  of  its  results.  Hence  of  no 
one  could  it  ever  be  said  as  of  Him, — 

"  Life  is  real ;  life  is  earnest." 

Having  something  to  do,  He  was  bent  upon  doing 
it.  The  conviction  of  a  mission  always  makes  men 
earnest.'  The  idea  of  a  destiny  believed  in  carried 
Napoleon  to  Jena  and  to  Austerlitz.  The  idea  of  a 
mission  made  Mohammed  a  conqueror  at  Mecca  and 
the  founder  of  a  religion  which,  after  these  twelve 
centuries,  is  one  of  the  principal  religions  of  the  world. 


2o6  Sermojts. 

Yet  both  Mohammed  and  Napoleon  sometimes  wav- 
ered as  if  in  doubt.  Paul  comes  nearer  the  ideal 
furnished  us  by  Christ,  for  he  never  doubted  his  mis- 
sion, and  he  was  not  mistaken  concerning  it.  Nor 
did  he  ever  falter  in  it,  even  when  Nero's  dungeon 
closed  him  in.  Christ  did  not  need  this  conscious- 
ness of  a  mission  to  render  Him  earnest;  but,  having 
it,  its  effects  were  constantly  perceptible.  It  came  out 
now  and  then  in  words  like  these,  "  I  am  come  to 
send  fire  on  the  earth ;  and  what  will  I,  if  it  be  already 
kindled?  But  I  have  a  baptism  to  be  baptized  with, 
and  how  am  I  straitened  till  it  be  accomplished  ?" 
It  came  out  still  oftener  in  the  acts  by  which  He 
pressed  on  to  the  complete  fulfilment  of  the  Father's 
will.  Wavered,  did  He  ?  Yes,  twice,  in  a  momentary 
shrinking  of  His  human  nature  from  an  awful  neces- 
sity laid  upon  Him  ;  once  in  Gethsemane,  and  once, 
"  Father,  save  me  from  this  hour."  Never  in  His 
conviction  of  what  He  had  to  do,  or  of  what  its  results 
should  be.  I  thank  God  for  the  record  of  this  weak- 
ness of  human  nerve,  for  it  comforts  me  when,  for 
the  moment,  those  less  steady  shrink  and  quiver.  It 
is  a  guaranty  that  He  who  can  never  forget  His  own 
Gethsemane  will  not  forget  us  when  God  leads  us 
into  ours. 

Coupled  with  this  confidence  in   His  mission  was  a 
fidelity  to  it  which  has  by  some  been  thought  more 


Undertones  in  the  Life  of  Christ.  207 

worthy  of  celebration  than  any  other  trait  in  His 
character.  Here  centres  what  some  have  to  say  of 
the  manliness  of  Christ,  meaning  thereby  that  moral 
and  spiritual  courai^^e  which  never  failed  Him.  True 
manliness  is  something  more  than  courage ;  but  this 
is  part  of  it.  Christ  was  certainly  the  manliest  of 
men,  in  His  tenderness  as  well  as  in  His  courage,  in 
His  love  as  well  as  in  His  boldness,  in  His  tears  as 
well  as  in  His  freedom  from  fear.  But  something 
more  than  mere  manliness  is  discovered  in  His  fidelity 
to  His  mission.  We  find  in  it  the  manliness  of  a  man 
and  the  patience  and  conscientiousness  of  a  God. 

HI.   At  this  point  we  turn  by  a  natural  transition  to 
the  spiritual  undertones  of  Christ's  life. 

A  simple  reference  to  His  divine  nature  is  enough 
to  establish  the  conviction  that  these  must  have  been 
among  the  most  pervasive  and  profound.  And  here 
a  multitude  of  interesting  questions  spring  up  as  by 
.  magic.  He  came  from  Heaven  :  what  memories  of 
it  did  He  retain  ?  He  was  by  nature  omniscient : 
how  far  was  His  omniscience  limited  by  His  earthly 
conditions?  Vain  questions  these,  and  all  the  rest 
which  tempt  us  to  fruitless  speculations.  We  never 
could  answer  them  ;  this  veil  of  mystery  it  is  not 
for  us  to  lift.  It  is,  however,  for  us  to  understand 
that  His  heavenly  relations  gave  a  spiritual  character 
to   His   every  thought,    mood,    habit,    method,   plan. 


2o8  Sermons. 

Spiritual  ideas  were  associated  with  all  His  acts.  His 
miracles  were  eloquent  in  spiritual  instruction.  He 
taught  the  sin-blind  how  to  see  when  He  opened  the 
eyes  of  Bartimeus.  He  taught  the  captives  of  Satan 
how  to  sit  at  His  feet,  clothed  and  in  their  right 
mind,  when  He  cast  out  devils.  He  showed  the  way 
to  life  out  of  spiritual  death  when  He  raised  the  dead. 
Ever  since  He  walked  upon  the  waves  His  voice  has 
cheered  the  spiritually  storm-tossed  with  the  assur- 
ance, "  It  is  I :  be  not  afraid  !" 

-  He  constantly  saw  in  those  to  whom  He  minis- 
tered candidates  for  immortality,  in  peril  when  they 
thought  themselves  safest,  in  poverty  when  they 
thought  themselves  richest,  in  sin  when  they  thought 
themselves  most  religious.  He  measured  human 
life,  in  general,  very  little  by  a  worldly  standard. 
He  used  our  ordinary  inch  rules  when  He  must  needs 
concern  Himself  only  with  the  affairs  of  the  day. 
His  characteristic  measurements  were  by  standards 
of  eternity. 

Then,  as  to  Himself,  He  undoubtedly  possessed 
the  spiritual  qualities,  as  a  man  moving  among  men, 
which  He  sought  to  reproduce  in  others.  He  was  a 
man  of  love :  He  loved  John,  Mary,  Peter  with  a 
spiritual  as  well  as  with  a  strictly  human  affection. 
He  was  a  man  of  faith  :  God  was  His  Father  not  the 
less  truly  that  He  was  Himself  God.     He  taught  the 


Undertones  in  the  Life  of  Christ.  209 

devil  a  lesson  of  faith  when  He  refused  to  distrust 
the  Father  by  making  bread  out  of  stones,  and  when 
He  refused  to  trust  God  rashly  by  casting  Himself 
from  the  temple.  He  was  a  man  of  prayer :  we  have 
numberless  occasions  for  prayer  where  He  had  not 
one,  yet  His  soul  was  like  an  altar  of  incense,  plumed 
by  a  perpetual  cloud. 

Such  undertones  as  these,  the  natural,  the  moral, 
and  the  spiritual,  will  bear  more  thought  than  we 
have  time  to  give  them  now.  The  study  of  them  may 
be  of  great  practical  benefit,  because  revealing  what 
may  be  possible  in  a  lower  degree  indeed,  yet  possi- 
ble to  any  one  who  will  thoroughly  test  the  life  which 
is  hid  with  Christ  in  God. 

But  our  view  would  be  incomplete  did  we  not  give 
some  careful  attention  to  another  class,  occasioned  by 
His  necessary  association  with  imperfect  mortals. 

IV.  This  class  I  will  term  associational,  for  the 
reason  just  given. 

As  explaining  what  I  mean,  let  us  suppose  that  it 
is  true,  as  even  recent  travellers  conjecture,  that  in 
the  heart  of  Africa  is  a  race  of  pigmies ;  let  us  sup- 
pose that  this  race  is  dwarfed  in  mind  as  well  as  in 
body  ;  let  us  suppose  that  a  man  of  highest  intelli- 
gence, of  saintly  spirituality,  of  keenest  sensibilities 
is  sent  to  this  race  as  a  missionary.  He  masters 
tiicir  language,  and  then  endeavors  to  communicate 

14 


2 1  o  Sermons. 

to  them  his  own  conceptions  of  Christianity ;  he 
makes  everything  as  simple  as  he  can,  but  finds, 
when  he  has  made  the  most  fluid  dilution  of  truth, 
the  minds  of  these  pigmies  are  so  narrow  that  he  can 
get  it  into  them  only  drop  by  drop.  They  do  not 
comprehend  a  great  deal  that  he  does  say  to  them, 
and  he  knows  they  could  not  understand  a  great  deal 
that  he  keeps  back.  They  are  prejudiced  too,  and 
do  not  like  all  they  do  understand.  It  is  hard  to  con- 
vince them  that  a  fetich  which  they  can  wear  is  not- 
better  than  a  God  whom  nobody  can  see.  They  mis- 
understand as  much  as  they  fail  to  understand.  They 
misinterpret  the  acts  and  the  motives  of  their  teacher. 
They  construe  his  disinterested  acts  into  selfish  ones, 
and  often  turn  away  from  him  when  he  turns  most 
longingly  and  lovingly  towards  them.  Some  posi- 
tively hate  him,  and  do  what  they  can  to  drive  him 
away,  or  to  defeat  his  mission ;  and  among  these 
people  he  is  positively  alone  !  Would  it  be  strange 
if  sometimes  he  should  feel  the  solitariness  of  his 
position?  Would  it  be  strange  if  the  peculiar  con- 
ditions of  his  work  should  occasion  a  peculiar  under- 
tone in  his  life  as  a  missionary,  an  associational 
undertone,  which  could  not  be  avoided,  but  not  on 
that  account  less  serious  ? 

The    analogy   suggested    is   not  very   close,  but  it 
opens  our  way. 


Undertones  in  the  Life  of  Clirist.  2 1 1 

It  was  a  frequent  experience  with  Christ  that  He 
was  not  understood.  Most  of  those  with  whom  He 
came  in  contact  did  not  care  to  understand  Him. 
Those  who  did  care  frequently  failed ;  those  often 
failed  who  understood  Him  best.  The  text  says, 
Mary  and  Joseph  "  understood  not  the  saying  which 
He  spake  unto  them  in  the  temple."  Mary  "  kept  all 
these  sayings  in  her  heart"  after  she  took  Him  back 
to  Nazareth.  She  thought  them  over  and  over,  not 
merely,  we  may  presume,  with  a  mother's  pride,  but 
also  with  a  mother's  affectional  insight.  She  turned 
them  often  to  the  light  in  her  thoughtful  hours, 
prayed  over  them  doubtless,  compared  them  with 
other  utterances  of  a  similar  kind  drawn  from  her  son 
in  the  quiet  intercourse  of  home.  Very  likely  she 
thought  she  understood  Him  perfectly  when  He 
started  fresh  from  His  baptism  on  His  ministry.  Yet 
when  she  tried  to  call  Him  out  at  the  marriage  in  Cana 
she  fell  back  in  confusion  under  His  rebuke,  only  re- 
covering herself  far  enough  to  say,  "  Whatsoever  He 
saith  unto  you,  do  it."  He  did  more  than  she  ex- 
pected. But  even  this  lesson  was  not  enough  to  ena- 
ble her  to  understand  Him,  for  we  find  her,  more  than 
a  year  afterward,  at  the  head  of  the  rest  of  her  family, 
seeking  to  interrupt  Him  in  His  work,  under  the  im- 
pression that  He  was  far  gone  in  fanaticism.  Mark 
makes  this  clear  by  this    record,    "  And   they" — i.e.. 


212  Sermons. 

Jesus  and  the  twelve — "  went  into  an  house,  and  the 
multitude  cometh  together  again,  so  that  they  could 
not  so  much  as  eat  bread  ;  and  when  His  friends  heard 
of  it,  they  went  out  to  lay  hold  on  Him;  for  they  said, 
He  is  beside  Himself^  By  and  by  it  is  reported  to 
Him  by  some  one  in  the  crowd  that  these  friends, 
now  identified  as  His  mother  and  His  brethren,  stand 
without,  seeking  Him.  His  answer  is  at  once  a 
rebuke  and  a  revelation.  He  looked  about  over 
the  throng  and  said,  "  Behold  !  my  mother  and  my 
brethren ;  for  whosoever  shall  do  the  will  of  God, 
the  same  is  my  brother  and  my  sister  and  my 
mother."  We  can  fancy  His  mother  turning  away 
when  she  heard  that,  wondering  whether  this  was 
not  a  new  proof  that  He  was  beside  Himself  indeed. 
Did  the  crowd  within  understand  Him  ?  Did  His 
own  disciples  ?  We  have  evidence  enough  that  they 
did  not  understand  much  that  He  said  to  them,  even 
at  the  very  close  of  His  ministry.  How  solitary  He 
must  have  been  made  to  feel  by  all  this  experience ! 

But  He  was  also  misunderstood,  and  that  was  worse 
when,  in  consequence.  He  was  misjudged.  His  ene- 
mies misunderstood  Him  habitually,  and  they  did 
what  they  could  to  make  the  people  misunderstand 
Him,  as,  e.g.,  when  they  tortured  His  words  of 
prophecy  respecting  His  resurrection  into  an  assault 
upon  the  temple.     "  Tear  it  down,  and  in  three  days 


Undertones  in  the  Life  of  Christ.  213 

I  will  build  it  up  again."     He  must  have  been  con- 
scious  as   He  moved   about,  the  wonder  of  the  day, 
that  He  was  regarded  by  the  majority  as  an  impostor 
as   dangerous  as   He  was  bold,  His  motives  miscon- 
strued. His  words  twisted,  His  acts  misjudged.     But 
this  was  not  so  hard  to  bear  as  the  misunderstanding 
of  His  friends  and  intimates.     He  grew  up  at  Naza- 
reth.    There  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  He  was  not 
respected  as  a  blameless  man  so  long  as   His  neigh- 
bors saw  in  Him  only  the  carpenter's  son.    But  when, 
after  the  miracle  at  Cana,  He  came  home  with   His 
mother  and  assumed  the  character  of  a  prophet  in 
the   synagogue,  they  first  failed  to  understand,  then 
misunderstood,  then  rose  upon  Him  in  a  mob,  and  hur- 
ried Him  out  of  the  town  to  cast  Him  headlong  from 
the   brow  of  the   hill   on   which   the    city  was    built. 
Such    pretension    his    old    neighbors  could   not  and 
would  not  endure.     We  have  already  discovered  how 
His  own  mother  misjudged  Him  as  beside  Himself. 
But  He  had   also  to   bear  the  misunderstanding  of 
those   who  knew  Him   better.     He    had    to    explain 
Himself  repeatedly  to   His  disciples,— to  James  and 
John    when    they    wanted    to    call    down    fire    from 
heaven  on  the  Samaritans,  and  when  they  asked  for 
seats  on  His  right  and  left  in  His  kingdom  ;  to  Peter 
when  He  knelt  to  wash  that  disciple's  feet ;  to  all  of 
them  sooner  or  later.     He  had  to  bear  their  expostu- 


214  Sermons. 

lations  when  He  proposed  to  go  to  Bethany  to  wake 
the  dead  Lazarus,  and  to  endure  the  reproof  of  Mary 
and  Martha,  who  had  seemingly  been  wondering 
three  days  whether  He  did  love  them  as  much  as  He 
professed,  because  if  He  had  come  when  they  sent  for 
Him  Lazarus  need  not  have  died.  It  would  seem  at 
the  last,  when  He  was  led  out  to  be  crucified,  as  if  all 
the  world  misunderstood  Him,  though  a  few  faithful 
ones  ventured  to  come  and  stand  weeping  about  the 
Cross. 

"Misunderstood!  Well,  what  of  it?"  say  some 
of  unsensitive  nature.  "  Why  should  one  trouble 
himself  about  that  if  he  understands  himself  and  is 
conscience-free?"  But  there  are  others  to  whom  the 
consciousness  that  they  are  both  misunderstood  and 
misjudged  is  torture.  They  cannot  help  the  jarring 
of  the  sensitive  nerve.  Indeed,  I  think  very  few  like 
to  be  misunderstood  by  their  friends,  to  have  their 
love  doubted,  to  have  the  freezing  look  of  to-day 
take  the  place  of  yesterday's  smile,  to  have  the  kiss 
of  duty  delivered  on  the  cheek  where  that  of  affec- 
tion used  to  burn,  all  because  of  some  misunder- 
standing. I  cannot  believe  that  many  are  pleased  to 
think  that  they  are  solitary  among  their  intimates 
because  misinterpreted,  even  when  love  is  the  cause 
of  the  misunderstanding.  Sure  I  am,  however  it  may 
be  with  some,  that  there  are  multitudes  in  this  world 


Undertones  in  the  Life  of  Christ.  215 

who  can  understand  how  what  I  have  called  the  asso- 
ciational  undertones  in  the  life  of  our  Lord  may  have 
been  among  the  most  real  and  the  most  profound. 

It  needs  but  a  word  to  suggest  that  all  the  under- 
tones I  have  mentioned — the  natural,  the  moral,  the 
spiritual,  the  associational — gave  character  and  signifi- 
cance to  all  the  upper  tones,  and  that  together  they 
constituted  the  marvellous  symphony  of  Christ's 
earthly  life. 

With  a  few  thoughts  growing  out  of  our  present 
study  we  will  leave  the  subject. 

First.  One's  real  personality  is  within  him.  Figure, 
face,  attitude  may  represent  a  man.  The  soul  may 
express  itself  by  characteristic  signs ;  but  such  ex- 
pression is  not  infallible,  it  may  be  misread.  Care- 
less people  do  misread  these  signs  and  think  they 
know  a  person,  when  all  they  know  is  what  their  own 
conception  is.  You  have  a  high  and  prominent  brow, 
you  are  intellectual ;  you  have  deep-set  eyes,  you  are 
deceitful ;  your  lips  are  thin  and  compressed,  you  are 
cold  and  wilful ;  the  light  comes  and  goes  in  your 
eyes,  you  are  sensitive;  your  attitude  in  church  is  de- 
vout, you  are  a  Christian.  The  verdicts  rendered  are 
of  varied  value ;  but  no  one  can  ever  claim  a  personal 
knowledge  of  you  or  of  me  who  has  nothing  but 
surface  indications  to  judge  by.  Scarcely  anybody 
knew  Christ  well;  no  one  but  the  Father  knew  Him 


2i6  Sermons. 

thoroughly.  In  speaking  of  Mary's  failures  to  under- 
stand Him,  I  did  not  mean  to  blame  her;  I  did  not 
mean  to  question  her  appreciation  of  Him,  or  to  take 
her  down  from  the  pedestal  on  which  she  has  a  right 
to  stand  as  singular  among  women, — the  mother  of 
Jesus.  I  would  only  class  her  among  other  mortals 
liable  to  misunderstand  such  a  son,  even  though  He 
stepped  out  of  her  lap  into  boyhood,  and  out  of  her 
home  into  His  ministry. 

So  also,  secondly,  one's  inner  consciousness  is 
more  real  than  his  outer  life.  You  are  more  real  to 
yourself  than  is  anything  you  do.  You  perform  an 
act;  that  is  something,  but  it  is  one  thing  only. 
You  know  tvhen  you  do  it,  ivliy.  It  has  come  up  out 
of  the  depths  of  your  nature  like  a  bubble  rising 
through  the  sea.  The  sea  is  more  real  to  you  than 
the  bubble.  You  are  capable  at  the  moment  of  a 
thousand  other  acts,  and  you  know  it.  Any  act  per- 
formed is  evanescent,  except  in  its  effects;  the  na- 
ture out  of  which  it  has  come  is  permanent.  So  of 
all  the  acts  which  may  constitute  the  outer  life, — the 
self  out  of  which  they  come  is  more  real  than  all  of 
them  put  together.  Your  life  has  its  undertones  as 
truly  as  Christ's  life  had.  If  you  will  listen  you  shall 
detect  their  rise  and  fall  when  the  upper  tones  are 
still. 

How  important,  then,  that  the  inner  consciousness 


Undertones  in  the  Life  of  Christ.  217 

should  be  under  the  power  of  grace.  If  bad  I  pity 
you,  if  good  I  congratulate,  for  this  is  the  real  self 
with  which  and  in  which  you  have  to  live  forever. 

Finally,  life's  trials,  which  when  real  must  be 
below  the  surface,  where  the  real  self  is  found,  need 
spiritual  treatment.  They  are  best  borne  and  are 
most  useful  when  they  are  considered  in  their  hea- 
venly relations.  Their  best  consolation  is  in  spiritual 
sympathy.  This  we  can  get  in  a  measure  from  those 
who  have  had  such  trials,  and  know  by  experience 
how  they  were  spiritually  soothed.  We  can  get  it 
from  those  who,  if  they  have  not  had  just  such  trials, 
are  accustomed  to  look  for  the  significance  of  earthly 
discipline  in  the  future  rather  than  in  the  present. 
Above  all,  we  can  get  it  from  Christ,  who  has  Himself 
sounded  every  depth  into  which  we  are  called  to  de- 
scend, and  gone  to  every  height  which  it  is  possible 
for  us  to  climb.  Never  think  your  trouble  or  your 
joy  is  such  as  to  make  you  solitary  so  long  as  you 
can  have  the  spiritual  sympathy  of  one  who  perfectly 
understands  you,  and  by  whom  you  can  never  be 
misunderstood.  "  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labor 
and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest." 


'^  hii^. 


